by McKenzie | Feb 13, 2011 | Blog, My Poems
I think of him every year on my birthday – He died of a stomach ache – I remember how I wrote poems and plastered them on the walls as though they might accumulate into a thirteen-year-old boy. I imagine how his eyes would be replaced with small worlds, his hands...
by McKenzie | Feb 13, 2011 | Blog, My Poems
Corpses are simpler to identify in the spring. As horses as glass, with broken knees fractures of teeth what little ivy they have eaten that remains in their digestion in the grass in the weeds of the mirrors of horses of confetti of...
