unearthing cross
of bones
not far from hole
a home
recedes from
sunny
side
of street for
relief
worms between
sheets.
creative writing
no longer entranced by
dancing to
crash..
..land in
handshake
behind screen too
bright to be
seen.
tasked in haste
to hatch
but
shell won’t
crack
while under
attack.
virgin to this
texture
of
pleasure
not born of
need
to
flee come
dawn
unfolds like
crown
of sparrows at their
most calm
whenever in
song.
may solace bless
your soul
dear uncle
Ant
dreams but
can’t
drag the clock
black.
salved by moon like
mother’s
milk..
mustache at PJ
picnic
kiss of meadow mist
on blister
tree,
trilling every word
to honor
bird
it
feels only
i see.
on mad quest for
porridge
armed with pot and
bottomless
spoon
and with fervor of
such research
my gut shall be
mush by
noon.
she welcomes freedom
with tears
sheen
like shoreline
of stars
not seen as bright
through
bars.
relieve raw tickles
my tonsils
from fury’s fumes
guzzled
when too frazzled to
refuse time’s
muzzle
pet or words
run red.
i fidget not to
flinch
when photos
find me
boxed in crotch of
crawlspace
damp from dreaming
ducts clenched
thru x-ray
flash.
hands in the garden 
You must be logged in to post a comment.