in California, I am told there were once three bridges of sea-hollowed sandstone. Only one remains now, and it will erode before long.
FERTILITY In the centigrey light of the living room, a skinned gutted deer dangles by calves on meat hooks. From the cavity, 500,000 cockroaches scuttle up its legs and across the ceiling. Eyelashes of… Continue reading
Click on the pictures to make them larger.
ARTIST STATEMENT I write from the depths of Brooklyn in whatever cafe will have me because my persistent issues with chronic irritable bowel syndrome and insistence upon not wearing a diaper in public… Continue reading
DAISIES, LILIES, A COUPLE OF CARNATIONS Another guest has left behind her flowers, so the proprietor has brought me a bouquet. There is grace in wearing out your fragrance, in standing until you… Continue reading
Winter Morning leaves rustle in chill wind deep- throated winter birds that sing in whispers
THE INFIDELS Though we have not decided yet, although we know the rebels just have come across the playgrounds and junkyards at the edge of the city and now hold the library and… Continue reading