blow into the paper bag
the girl that shopped too much
the birds that talk
and the trees all start to take face
been gone too long
they’ll try to keep up apart
I’m not here. This isn’t happening.
This isn’t happening. I’m not here.
drops of light and landslides
I guess it has seen the sparks a-flowing
(published in issue 51 of CMYK)
this curved spine of mine
buckled and buckled from top to bottom
it barks at no one else but me
slow down
like I’ve seen a ghost
and no one believes me
I’m a riddle in 9 syllables
boarded the train / there’s no getting off
Broken Home of Convention 