A tide of blood, miniature in compare— But an ocean no less, to the virus in there.

death with a sickle and like most any farmer their work is never done and life never stops springing for… and never tires of trying

Mowing with the sickle I stop abruptly and remember crawling out the window to smoke on the roof

Praise those who sit and wait for nothing. Who sit still and know they are owed nothing. On the mat each inhalation

Every once in a while, when my bunkmates are asleep (or at least I hope they are), and the jingle of the keys fades to the end of the hall,

With certitude was the stove on th… as it always was, warming my feet… next I was on the floor and it flo… and then flashed to a different po… upside down

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,

Nothing is all I ever wanted, now I’ve got it all! Careful! Lest I become a braggart… From nowhere it’s a hard fall.

I remember being unmoved at more than one funeral at more than one memorial looking about impatiently impervious to the cries of the cry…

I feel newly acquainted with this skin, everything is novel, intensity is wherever my eyes land,

As far as the eye can see— Limitless blue nowhere to be found.

I imagined every venerable thing b… from being beaten until I had no b… and living in utter desolation, po… to having tangible things, good ta… Land and Gold.

Therein are the spoils of sorrow, the fruit of hardship, where wind snaps and prevails. Death whispers a hollow secret and I still shiver

Sometimes the sky is orange, sometimes it takes a purplish hue— mountains for contrast their dimen… and the light pervades twixt our c… and the light washes down mine fac…