I still taste you 
in every sip of liquor
O, how quickly
our past begins to replay
projected on the evening lawn
as the oil lamp burns 
ghostly, beside me

You said so little
like some men will
That stillness was a balm
to my life’s tumult
Your stoic way
and silent eyes
a recurring character
in my diary’s scribbled lines

I don’t do much
but work and walk
and play the records
y...

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Bodies are burning their oil lamps brightly

from the windows overlooking the church  

their silhouettes shape-shift on the bedroom walls

as they move from room to room,

neither stand still long enough for you 

to grasp who or what they are,

televisions flicker in accord

as if planned in some way, it’s strangely romantic

as if part of a passion play – and I am the only one h...

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The place where I come from doesn't bekon me.

It's always just... there, like part of my DNA

That never really goes away.

My home town doesn't beckon.  It's just there.  It just waits.

The places where I spent time have all changed hands in time.

But if I went back, I'd find... nothing the same;

Except the name, which always reamains...unchanged.

It waits for my retu...

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Once upon a time, there was a cake that was not just a cake
It was the cocoa powder, dark and bitter earth
that once was seed, fruit, promise
It was the butter, golden fat, almost alive
melting under touch, like fear or desire
It was the sugar, sweet and cruel
dissolving into itself
like memories that refuse to be remembered

The eggs are cracked, fragile shells of worlds
and from them f...

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