a mere forty years/and maybe you become twelve,/maybe sixty-three.

you kissed me, once,/ kindergarten, recall--/ behind my ear./ called/ 'bee sting'

Macro-Microbe parked his car and proceeded on foot, which was a misnomer because he had no feet. Typical for Manhattan, no one gave him a second glance except for a homeless woman who tried to sell him hand-sanitizer. Macro-Microbe locomoted himself insid

It's that day in July when you feel really bummed because you can't find your favorite white sleeveless shirt that you wear on the hottest days of the yea

you are a necessary exercise in futility

Every day, a fresh new/ strain of Hell reveals itself

You borrow words from platforms you could never build Borrow morals from a party gone sour

The questions piled up so high I thought I'd neverget through the door.The ease of alcohol, the incline of submission. Guttural sounds and spittle.Wipe down the morning afterwith a shower.Redress in last night's clothes.There's coffee if you want it.Sincerity too -no,…

Once, in the past or future, but definitely not in the present, I worked as a transportation minister for a friendly dictator, whose name was neither Hitler, nor Stalin, nor Kim Jong-Un, but whose mustache was toothbrush, whose smile was sardonic to the p

I I I I

Last night as a duration spent hovering in electronic media-space.

the birth of a long, dark age// where the wealthy will be eaten by the poor/ and the poor will be eaten by disease

"Lately I've been thinking a baby's the only way I might be able to hang on to you."

One must be drenched in words.

All this broken glass in the road Tells the longest story l have ever told Of how you lost your life and I my love And how you still go wandering above I don't know how I can return To the planet where we used to thrive Along this broken