August 2021



wolf hour

nightclubbers slinking home
along empty streets


muddied directions

I lurch into the frog-spawn
of a blind man's ditch


the gull's afterimage
hook line and sinker


fogged in

do I see a city
or my origins?


behold it

desiccated limbs
in full bloom


down hearted blues
her malady hounds her
down to her grave




here and now
my argument with myself ends
in threaded raindrops


in drone vision
this little bit of child
a glimpse of conquest


an unnamed plant's
unmitigated reality
blinds my blind spot


my forgetfulness—
I watch it meandering
over my to-do list


a mirror bridge
suspended in disbelief
between our eyes


our night terror
a plasticine crow
peddling footprints


today's tomorrow
is becoming a transparent