Arithmetic beside our daily livesconcrete rituals enrapture lovedesires like so many Lego bricks erected we finish building ourgrowing collection of voodoo figurineshapless hopeless held up by anignorant God without jokers in the tarot deckkept semi-comatose in thelock up behind the mini-martnobody can say whoopened the gates or whopinned back yesterday’squandaryright now todaysurrender to the surgeon …
Category Archives: Poetry
Nights
I carry a lifetime’s worth of nights in my throat.
Love Song for My Devil
My worship of you ends in dismay
I want to kiss the moon
sometimes / the way I used to want a smoke
Fragment — August 2023
for a moon/that spins slowly/and echoes our fugitive secrets