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Painting by Zdzisław Beksiński

“Those who do not weep, do not see.”*
Blooms beget bombs,
hope and horror in one vignette of existence
and the next
and the next
our little cherubs grow up to detonate
affix credit scores to souls and kill for food
the film reel revolves and I watch dry-eyed paralyzed Read More

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Partitions

Map of Kathmandu (see Credit below)

In attempt to love them
Yea, I become them
Before no walls were there.
Now built round
Notion of in-and-out has height,
Keeps out the sunlight,
Of home-and-world… Read More

“I Know Something”

Photography by Flip Schulke

 

Skeletons, eye X’s stipple the landscape
sometimes when children see it they’ll
reach for hands, give their fathers a kiss,
and know that THIS cures war and hatred;
but when they do and there’s nobody left,
injustice will fill their bereft hands to come
invading as false valor seeks vengeance Read More

Sliding Scale


Mentality shaky like an ancient mountain on a fault line slipping into the sea and the mountains don’t even speak to me anymore long neglectful of the dust that comprises their mass even when the shadows spill glorious on their umber cliff sides in low winter sun i am laid numb by the trisomy 13 and too premature and still-
births of strangers
sisters Read More

Newborn

image

Photography by Melissa Landres

Baneful acts to free will bullet-hole the planet like an inanimate target; yet I still believe in the miracle of birth, how a newborn baby can bring joy like little else we humans can experience in this existence. How when one looks into a pair of eyes still swirling with creation, Read More

Babel Jazz

Art by Ross Eccles

 

From minor to augmented (egos)
you inverted perverted sevenths and ninths stacked too high and tight like crumbling tenements and
trump tower trumpettes blaring cries for deployment, displacement,
their own decadence.
Dissonance.
The tesserae of wild flying life
the pursuit of caffeinated virtue in
my roaring twenties and twentieth-century aftermath
An improbable mosaic for the mathematically inclined:
Oils and piss and turpentine thrown onto the tabula rasa
Orchestras and cocaine and sad sex Read More