Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Upon Thinking

To write. Or, to writhe. The shell is human, but the meta-factual is even money now. While transcription is a heartfelt thing.

Thursday, November 10, 2016

Some Gone Wings

In Cuts

Black wreaths for everyone and the meat that we are falls down, evident. The glassy silt from my sleep last night shakes from my ears. I’m drinking in the noise. 

Wednesday, November 09, 2016

Open The Night

Not Of A Sudden

At the bottom of the bric-a-brac shop, I saw you veering. You were wondering if we could put it back together. You were wondering how far away we were from quiet.

Wednesday, November 02, 2016

Words Like Fun

Moving In 2

Tuesday, November 01, 2016

Even The Ghost