Poetry

I want to know how it happened how the bindle's gold was spent or stolen by winking friends or women or men whose tongues and strokes upon your hairless shoulder made you think this is forever

At the ocean, I see the waves advance and retreat, endless armies of blue desire.

Like moths attracted to the light, we swarm together, drawn to warm, the solace of some company.

I pull myself onto his lap, curl up as glass melts into flesh, lead pulses with blood, and the cold flat surface warms and swells.

And the angel said unto thee, Go though into your garden and plant Creeping Jenny.

Adam named the lion, tiger, lemur, and bear. And then what? He kept on naming things, including colors he named after the animals he'd named.

We tell the story to one another again in darkness when all our city's flames are fluttered out.

We must not make the maquette.

Holy Spirit guide her through her wilderness.