a day to never return descends in gray water the night will drown written in black ink because that’s how it will end without fanfare or...

it’s really really hard to write a poem that doesn’t sound like a Hallmark card so I leave you with this: a setting sun slices through...

shuffling or rolling along carpeted hallways and flowered walls they go by with cracked smiles some with lips pressed in a grim parallel...

I like to keep a critical eye on what everyone else does but frequently avoid aiming it at myself if I did I’d lean back and recline...