From the 2020 Collection "War Bread"
A Sacred Site is the ultimate emblem, a trophy of the horizon’s finitude… No better a final gate, no more wiser a runway,
The Eye of Providence harbors no grudge, holds no thought of evil. Knowing this you may boil in oil,
You can get better, or you can get worse, or you can stay the same. But you can’t change. Nope!
One of God’s tricks is, similar to Michael Jordan, It sinks a three-pointer with 1.2 seconds left on the clock,
Here comes the awakened caste, to save none from their last. Extinction has been decided best, again, Earth will not
The moment you flit by my ear, my strings are severed, I droop like a marionette— I remember I know nothing.
Needless of a judge, a contrite heart is a bird suspended on a current, shifting myriad planes without asking or telling.
What is your idea of placid? How about a mountain campground? Yes, but here in the midst is a querulous brain a competitive heart
The Rock made me to see each month as a day. The Rock implored that I be patie… with a patience so radical it slips into renunciation
Mojave Desert crushed cars stacked six, seven, ten tall. From the junkyard juts a billboard:
I know people see him and think, “Gee, that’s crazy.” Which makes it embarrassing to see him
Oh, Death! Two beers and I’m on my back! Skipped the shower, skipped the toothbrush. Just a film of sweat,
Trees poke from the earth like the mummified hands of the martyrs. Buried alive, they strained with last breath
At a certain point in your ordeal, it isn’t your ordeal that bothers… It is the fact that everything is… That’s what really bothers you. Because what happened is not OK,
Wanting anything— What a curse. I take the simplest of shelter, revisit proven feeding grounds, do what my organs demand.
