From the 2018 Collection "The Dead Dog Parish"
What is your idea of placid? How about a mountain campground? Yes, but here in the midst is a querulous brain a competitive heart
Nine times out of ten, it’s a demon you’re seeing, not an angel. They have all kinds of disguises, I know-I know,
It occurs to me now that no one hears my song. Still young, I am discarded. I don’t anticipate being surprised at my aloneness in old age.
Tears tears do a walk-by unload the clip don’t know why now
Brian told me he held his own guts in his hands, his tattoo reads: ALREADY DEAD.
I would lie with my hand on the B… I would lie with my hand on a stac… of Holy Qurans. I would look you dead-in-the-eye, and tell you a lie.
She lives no where, has no coordinates, she took me to the gallows, tempted me in the garden and my voice boomed.
In the most lovely of lands, before a backdrop of mountains and palms, there hangs a pall— All my Loves
As far as the eye can see— Limitless blue nowhere to be found.
With a sword karma sets straight what’s veered. By her sword does Justice dispense simply
You can get better, or you can get worse, or you can stay the same. But you can’t change. Nope!
Praise those who sit and wait for nothing. Who sit still and know they are owed nothing. On the mat each inhalation
I lost my pendant, a dove with a wafer or solar cross… on the back was written 'Sterling’… I searched for hours. I felt silly and embarrassed to
One of God’s tricks is, similar to Michael Jordan, It sinks a three-pointer with 1.2 seconds left on the clock,
Ancient meadow preadolescence, burgeoning and righteous never-ending dimension first sighted past your fingertips… is stolen by ambition,
