The names of children are dangerous.
We want to paint the city/with horizons burning in our minds.
& we’ve all been trying to divine some kind of meaning in the oncoming destruction.
since/the only thing, we know, worse than too little/Truth is too much of the same old shit.
Being tied up is being present.
Poetry is an anchor That keeps us connected To sparrow, boxwood, and saucer When the tides of greed and necessity rise To Claire de Lune and The Golden Rule Through […]
Airport audio systems transport me back to my first transistor radio.
The challenge was to talk about monstrous things in human terms, to be simultaneously clear-eyed and empathetic about human frailty.
The urge to write grips/ my mind like an araldite,
I wasn’t thinking about stealing.