Poem — Slipping under As if I could be covered As if I could still gather a handful of loneliness Among other things. All tears carefully removed from my tear ducts Carrying on with the execution. My eyes have the color of agony. And you, so pleased with my silence As if…

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Poem — If I’m anything I am my poem’s moon — You have to be until you break There is my presence Solid rock fitting the darkness Made out of the purest words — We can’t play poets, we’ll turn into them Sites of silence excavated Salvaged parts of an elemental body Fragments of…

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Poem — Not a river, only thirst. Then the traveler with the empty glass. He built his boat with his own bones visited every night my cold body of water. I was flowing all day allowing the vibrations of pain and in the evening at dusk picked away by the birds the traveler…