Monster of Nature

How do you write a poem when You can’t remember your name? Like a vanishing version Of an old, familiar scene, Like angels slipping awa...

Phone I’m just trying to call, As if if were there that easy, As if poetry were owls, As if baby poems were owls, Tasked with their own...

Phone I’m just trying to call, As if if were there that easy, As if poetry were owls, As if baby poems were owls, Tasked with their own...

And then there’s the urge To make a kind of something Out of the nothing much That flings itself your way. If you could be maximally Q...

Soon, the holograph Will be the last Resort of the facts And the pen in the hand The last ghostly jasmine As a light breeze Ruffles ...

The shadows are so long They have lives of their own And the life that was led Seems tangled in the life Its shadows are leaving, As i...

There’s a small pile You can arrange Of dust while you wait death, And making small islands You’re never excavating While clouds conce...