(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…

Oh, Death! Two beers and I’m on my back! Skipped the shower, skipped the toothbrush. Just a film of sweat,

To be a ghost is to always be aghast— To not know which direction is the future or the past.

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

You can ask to be shown, opened unto a dimension, swirling, sickening realm. But, woe unto thee fleshly being, dare ye enter that perilous gate

Incense thick with a scent that is true and a bit soiled and dense so dense I lift

As a child I saw the meaning in n… I beheld the color code. I would dream of my bed whirling, I would feel my bed spinning. To take a birth here is a hard fal…

When the world wasn’t burning I felt optimistic that one day I could come home

A Sacred Site is the ultimate emblem, a trophy of the horizon’s finitude… No better a final gate, no more wiser a runway,

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,

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

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

That one more, chasing the dragon, carrot dangling,

There is a most worthy woman, the upper steward of the manor, Obermeyer of Holy Terra, house cute, smokestack simmering,