Refuse/d words built into infinite forms of bodies. This collection is unedited; done in one sitting; sometimes daily, frequently infrequent.

Saturday, January 23, 2016


I watched a slow fly,
dying, tie-toeing over
Daniel's Xbox controller.

It made me think of winter, when
everything is stilling, distilling.

Now is a soft, thin time.
I am not even a shadow
angled and black on the ground.
I am Without.

Thursday, January 14, 2016

reading letters not addressed to me.

Little papers, 
folded, unfolded:
my mother 
from behind
a translucent screen.