“So go then,” she said, referring to the way the river was drained of water. Your front porch was filled with wind chimes, filling the corners of the deck, filling your house with hollow sounds. One day your belongings began to disappear. Windows opened – latch-less – let in the low drones around an empty… Read More The Sound After Thunder
I just might have to go back and see this again and write a review of it. I wanted nothing more than my typewriter and to stay up to write all night after I saw this.
I remember you – the way your body fell like rain into the bed. Sheath after sheath – the smell of the room, the shape of your frame. You disappeared inside the mattress, the fabric turned to water. Your hair flailed like a fan, your fingers were spiders, the lack of iris in the blue… Read More “Kaleidoscopy”
No one ever asked you what sin feels like. It travels to the ends of your hair, like every other poem you have written. [Metafiction.] You are the character that walks in the tide – the sand swallowing your feet, wishing for the strength of the undercurrent. You became my favorite character. You filled a… Read More The Naked, Walking
1. You, you remember those earlier days when you walked along a more putrid river surrounded by chamomile and violets where the moon hung itself in the trees. The new moon became the funeral you walked into. You dreamt many times. 2. You remember how, once, your legs somersaulted without you, as though filled with… Read More Visiting Rights