Act I It feels like yesterday we were building civilization. We sat hunched over by the tiny creek, moving stones and forming lakes like gods. We strolled along our length of creek by where the mouth of it came out from under the road and ripped ragweed stalks from the [
/*! elementor – v3.6.6 – 08-06-2022 */ .elementor-widget-image{text-align:center}.elementor-widget-image a{display:inline-block}.elementor-widget-image a img[src$=”.svg”]{width:48px}.elementor-widget-image img{vertical-align:middle;display:inline-block} Self Portrait, Spring
This man lives at the back of my head. Tucked under my occipital lobe, he hunches over, too tall for my skull. His squirrel-teeth curl over a vicious tongue that cuts into my ears from the inside. He gropes at my neck and spine and ears and lips and he makes me say things I […]
Tell me of the night your mind got ahead of itself. Was it like the head of a racehorse, chopped off at the neck. Triumphant, ahead of its own body, looking back toward its own shocked withers. Tell me why you did it, though you felt letters tangling like loose thread in your throat, […]
/*! elementor – v3.6.6 – 08-06-2022 */ .elementor-widget-image{text-align:center}.elementor-widget-image a{display:inline-block}.elementor-widget-image a img[src$=”.svg”]{width:48px}.elementor-widget-image img{vertical-align:middle;display:inline-block} On the Run, Spring 202
/*! elementor – v3.6.6 – 08-06-2022 */ .elementor-widget-image{text-align:center}.elementor-widget-image a{display:inline-block}.elementor-widget-image a img[src$=”.svg”]{width:48px}.elementor-widget-image img{vertical-align:middle;display:inline-block} Hammer Painting 1, Spr
All the things that I know I keep hidden between my large ears and underneath my curly hair, because they’re mostly useless things. Dolphins are actually pretty mean, turns out. The males commit infantcide, ensuring the female’s availability so they can mate. Famines can be caused by everything
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*Inspired by the Irish Folk Song “Stick to the Cratur (Poteen)” Would you hear me to say that the kiss didn’t linger, So their wishes and fingers lost heaven and sheen? With a flea-bitten silence and no trace of guidance, Was an unraveled patience, neglected, but keen. Would you number an
/*! elementor – v3.6.6 – 08-06-2022 */ .elementor-widget-image{text-align:center}.elementor-widget-image a{display:inline-block}.elementor-widget-image a img[src$=”.svg”]{width:48px}.elementor-widget-image img{vertical-align:middle;display:inline-block} Childhood Circa 2001-2
