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

Reams of saggy bunting intersect the streets.

You drink in women's bodies, without reserve. You take a sip at the post office, a gulp at the gym, a teensy taste when we walk together. Tonight you even indulged as we were looking for a parking spot and passed some twenty-somethings, then followed up w

What the tumbler meant

The young man is back again, solo,

weep or go stark mad your amanuensic fool will bury your words

They were discussing reincarnation, what animals they would come back as. "I'd be a vole," Cranshaw said. Is a vole even an animal? Connie asked.