time brines 

and wrinkles deepen

during times like these, I'd rather be pressed 

like a tulip shoot

 between the pages 

of a diary,  

and left to dry,

 preserved 

hidden from the scorn of spotlight

as it spins over the face of fascists

well-known and

smiling, 

glisten-toothed and hungry 

eager to make nations forget 

the smell 

the soot

of a fur...

Read and leave comments (0)

we touched the sky

with suffered silos:

feigned gates on which my love might hang 

scabbed wreaths creaking in idle winds

peppered, long-feln

to keep the flies off 

to keep some facsimile of youth intact

another field-dressed carcass

only good for sausage

by the watershed.

ground is a funny word, isn't it? 

rough-hewn earths and

torn up turfs and

a finer...

Read and leave comments (0)

I love you too
chronic,  6 am nosebleed . 

.

I can feel it 
I can feel it circling 
and breaking off 
layers scivved away 
by the cloying event horizon
by a tired pain in my chest

the weight 
of waiting

while the slumber of the river
calls.

could i be ophelia to you? 
left sun-bloated by the bedsheets?
death drawn through 
a pneumatic syringe and layers
of sickened foam
...

Read and leave comments (0)

so often, when i get handed stories where people die, I go to where it happened.

 I go the place where they were last themselves, in their bodies, alive 

"why do you film the flowers, Zach? 

why do you show us the grass?

the breeze? 

the green, green leaves?" 

i want to show what it means 

to look up at the sky one last time 

i want to leave flowers for them

when I don't...

Read and leave comments (0)

we invented angels . 

beneath the brawn of skin
the pock of age 
spinning sweat for escape 
a purpose for craned necks
and volume for books 

we needed a shape for hope. 

indescernable from our fevered tongues
to spill us from these iron lungs
compressants quenched
and lift toward the spiraling smoke 
the ecstacy of backroom chatter 
of porch-lit memory 

we invented angels. 

Read and leave comments (0)