From the 2018 Collection "The Dead Dog Parish"
#becomingnobody #gratitude #nonsense
(1) Under an open window I gaze out until the wonder is gon… Having run out of questions I fal… but perk up when a stray cat appea…
The choir of the saints is heartle… They’ve parried happiness a lifeti… seeking only the old earth, the marsh of the meek— where earnest suffering
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,
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
Yes, it’s a famous song— “Unbroken Chain” by the Grateful Dead, a good band name as an aside,
Needless of a judge, a contrite heart is a bird suspended on a current, shifting myriad planes without asking or telling.
Forget shoplifting, not pushing your cart back to the cart-corral is the true crime. Amazing,
When the world wasn’t burning I felt optimistic that one day I could come home
Mowing with the sickle I stop abruptly and remember crawling out the window to smoke on the roof
Ancient meadow preadolescence, burgeoning and righteous never-ending dimension first sighted past your fingertips… is stolen by ambition,
Hollow fang? Volcano. Cat’s purr? Hymnals. Intuition?
I know people see him and think, “Gee, that’s crazy.” Which makes it embarrassing to see him
Curling black from crematorium sta… tell me again the hoax of the soul… The cowl paces, pretends to be faceless, swinging silver and wafting saccha…
Upon that special mound there is a cleanliness, a purity sanctimonious, something so perfect it’s numerological—
I feel newly acquainted with this skin, everything is novel, intensity is wherever my eyes land,