the clacking of his thoughts sound like the anxious machinery of a typewriter, ribbon unspooling into ink-laden pages hammered by shakespeare’s thousand sweatshop monkeys he dreams he just woke up to find his mouth open and full of flies: their … Read More
it rained sixteen months – heavy – before we found you, mud, child, slicked but buffeted, sinking backward & forward. you resisted and slid further smoothing into before as our hands built out to after. smile – we coo – … Read More
They say she wears a mask that could launch a thousand ships and that with the purse of her lips, the white-gloved hands she uses to light thin, pretty cigarettes and drink Manhattans that she would launch them.
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING One time when I was walking down the street, I saw Kenneth Branagh. I said, Hey! Kenneth Branagh! I loved your adaptation of _Much Ado About Nothing_! And your work in _Wild Wild West_! I mean … Read More
She sits a widowed star beyond the rest, And whispers of the final kiss. Entrances souls who chance to look With promise of eternal bliss. She glared in through the eyes, and saw We lack it in our minds, … Read More
I’m going to paint the walls of this room over. They’re old now and they clash with the décor. But the days are short and there’s no light, no tarps, no plastic covers And I’m sure I’ll get drippings on … Read More
