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How To Love Like a Raven Loves

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You Have Something I Don't Have

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So, as the lines on my face grow more pronounced, the lines on my finger prints are fading away? All I can say is that it's a damn shame it's not the other way around.

The Intervention

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"You're publishing too much too / quickly. We think that's unhealthy. We want you / to slow down. You're becoming a fame whore."

Night of The Lepus

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I've decided I'm here to be absurd.

Regarding Viet Nam

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At some point, my lottery number/ was in the mid 300s. I was safe/ for whatever reason. No need/ to burn my draft card.

Old men, old dogs

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old men with crispy sunburnt ears

Three Flash Sonnets

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Poor souls. Likely they'll be poets.


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There are things we must not say.

More from the Chronicles of His Demise

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Only scotch and cheap champagne/ retain their reliable flavors.

Three in a Major Key

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One can watch the grass green/ in response. One can watch the world green/ in response.


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The only thing I have left of my maternal grandfather is a small hand-held mirror made of ivory.It sits in the upstairs bedroom dresser drawer …


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A woman with fallen breasts is attempting to hang her laundry on a string. Two tall men mount horses and ride them into the meadow. A squad of children wrap themselves around a playground.

Abra Cadaver

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The body is an endless safari filled with rhino sightings and encounters with antelope.

The Planet Will Erase Us

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We control/ nothing.

Moles & Scraps

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A starved hunchbacked figure covered in blanket gently steers a one eyed dog along with him. A four legged shadow serving as his longtime companion against the all-consuming vacuum of the universe. A friend for all times.A thin scar runs from his cheekbone to…

The Little Things (three versions)

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It's the little things that trip us up: a small hole in a level field, an innocuous root in a well-trod path, a disinclined sidewalk...


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We can apprehend beauty only/ by framing it with the photographic/ paper’s edge or the novel’s margins/ and bookends.

From The Chronicles of His Demise

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I am not the wind./ I am a stone eroded by the wind

El Dia de los Muertos

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They wear their bodies recklessly, these cempazuchitl,
 these flowers of the dead.

Desire: First Love Poem

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Desire trumps wisdom.

The Body in the Other Room

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I couldn’t parse the grammar of her body nor decode the secret softness of her neck.


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The list of things to live for/ shortens with age. The list of regrets/ lengthens.

I fall out of love, learn not to worry, and get ready to embrace the foreign war...

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Love hurts... Really.

The Tongues of Spring

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Another new spring and the leaves

Don’t Carry the World

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On hot Southern days / when the air shimmered

Lucky Strike

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...when they entered eager lungs hungry from deep and sweaty love

Quintet in a Minor Key Near the End of Time

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The one thing I believe in is collapse./ Abandoned buildings collapse. Civilizations// collapse. Financial bubbles collapse./ Stars and galaxies collapse. Falling// is something that comes quite naturally/ to puffed up things.

Growing older, uncomfortably

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Cafés just aren´t cool anymore unless they boast walls of exposed brick, pipes, half a chair nailed to the ceiling, mis-matched furniture back-breakingly uncomfortable.

astral ages

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Life in astral circles

In Brief

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I can admire Falling Water and find Mr. Wright a complete shit.