Mostly, I want to die. Just kidding! I don’t want to die in private. To be spied on. Your name means “killer of all things less than entropy” in dreams. Why do they have to breakdown my ego the way they do? Don’t use the word “ego” it’s so, I don’t know, 1970s.             Sometimes, sex […]

Endlessly writing ghazals, to what effect? Poems are more like riddles than gestures directed at one’s idiotic name. Writing poems to lovers became so boring. Writing poems about climate change— boring also. The biomass plant is no place to call home but neither is this.             I miss my dog. Listen to me, little one. If […]

God, I miss being anorexic. Wouldn’t it be great to fluctuate in the space between death and death’s magistrate once again? No turning back on sin. How to negotiate the thin layer and the paper mache sculpture I made of the supermax prison do you like it do you like it do you want it […]

He takes each one out of its box and activates it, using the key as he had been instructed. And as each goes its way, he remembers the clockmaker who had shown him the mechanism, the spring and gears, and all the parts whose names he has now forgotten. He remembers the first time, stealing […]

“not of one bird but of many” abide more tritone idle mode if bodies into bodies steal     as cockles swim         or scuttle     for hollowed hull and drawing breath     in darkness mull         infallible     and out of both         bewilder                 • abide more tritone idle mode the dominant’s a leaky still     for quiet divination         for every thought     a […]

Sound out Faerie horns, or pipes that mark the general distribution. Year of Jubilee, twelfth year of memory, nearabouts the Day of Atonement, in the neighborhood of a sheer unlucky Friday. A cracked piano or crazy hurdy-gurdy, make some noise to crack the torpor. Strings or wind, blow the hair out of your bloody eyes. […]

In July, we attended tornadoes by radio. When it came— a winding cellar snake— we leaned hard into her deep freeze, panic wrenching love up through cottonwood branches to twist and cure. Between saddles, we counted the guns aloud. The cellar held. We emerged lacking trust in any satellite. No tornado but a dust storm, […]

Our father made a blind dive for rumored arrowheads in a boiling sand spring. Our mother gave gritty oranges. We watched the pit. Barbed wire cuts pulsed. He stayed under. Hawks spun. Our trespasses are never anchored.

             Start with a map, a sheet                     of paper                          Thinking                       is site-specific + Glare rusting air—         the sightline                             disrupted “I remember                      the quarry”                                              a blank + The color of rock             —the color of decay Perception’s             a process + Sky mound             at the bottom of the hill             a swamp + A parking lot— degrees of torpor […]