pages (a lot of them)
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time will crush my bones until they spell out in chalk the names of all those who linger in my dreams faceless
sadness that sits in the throat like a swallowed key time is a slow fist closing around the spine i am practicing the alphabet of my own skeleton on the… Read more.
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The Mandate of the Mornings
The sun does not rise over the nation by decree. It is the unwavering duty of the horizon to turn itself, particle by patient particle, toward the light. So it… Read more.
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The House of Water, The House of Stone
The afternoon is a slow animal dying on the floor. Its breath is the dust-mote spiral in the window-gold. I am told to build a house here. To use the… Read more.
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Is Atheism Implausible?
I. Silence and the Shape of a QuestionLet’s begin with the silence.Not the absence of sound, but the kind of silence you find at 3:17 a.m., when the world hasgone… Read more.
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ulcers flowers veterans and gods
the reds and whites of valentines are sickeningly sweet and when i say sweet i mean they carve ulcers into my throat they burn through the soft tissue of my… Read more.
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sin is all that you have to show for yourself
i tell the room this like a wound that will not close like a clock wound until it forgets itself the ceiling remembers my name and repeats it like ashpossibility is a… Read more.
between the rotting walls 