Poems in pure formtransmit truthin fragments – the only way we are capable of knowing. I am a dichotomy, of truthI feel, yet place at a distance. I accept my body except my body which I denyin part, beinggenuine torment. Poetry’s mirror isreality, fluid in formbalanced on the poise of perception The...

The road ispressed upon by air tightWith life, budding forth in triplets. Beyond the heart, a rhythm punctuatesOur thoughts, leaving only timeTo rise above the tide, and gaspFor all these cells can carry. We sweep together in currents, unthinking,Shuffled weblessly. The river swallows and chokes Us...

Mr. Spider,It’s not my place toRe-decide the value of your life.You reach upon my desk and climb insidemy handy leather safe. The chase begins.A small defenseless preyYou subtly outmaneuver me.I nearly sliceYour whole in two with Paper thick as thin can be. A wind wipesYou to the ground, adieu.You...

Tiny leavesRippling downFluttered: my soul. I felt as though a tide were torn from me.Left to foment.A sheath lifted: my skin Black wings flit across the scene.I breath in wet swallowsAnd reach to pluck them: my bearings. As feathers whispered soft unto my toesI bowed and wondered at the shadow of...