On Writing

Poem 10 – Remnants of my Saturday Morning Dream

Remnants of my Saturday Morning Dream The old victorian houseis perfectly ricketycontent in the stateof itself shifted andunevened over time In the streets around herpanic – human mayhemworse than termites in woodor bees behind a wallyet the same in theirbuzzing destructionto exist In the sky – translucentblack orbs floating toconcrete and mudthe stepping out ofholograms… Continue reading Poem 10 – Remnants of my Saturday Morning Dream

On Writing

Poem 9: Orbit

Orbit for Miller There is noseparationbetweena sun and her rays I orbit the planet familyfour humans two caninesfood shelter waterbooks film art When I wrap myselfaround her shiningtickle her wristsmell her skinI tell herI hope big love greetsyou every morningIt will she says it will In this orbitI am curled indevotedsmallyet each breath inis a… Continue reading Poem 9: Orbit