This poem is made of
100% reused characters,
recycled words.
It’s ego-friendly.
Its author is a golem
made of fibres and minerals
listed on cereal-box sides. [Read more...]

And then the summer night was straw,
all gathered together and the light
could not get through. I thought
of someone, I was always thinking
of someone that summer. Would he
come to see me, with deer antlers
held above his head and torn belt-loops
on his jeans?
[Read more...]

It is winter. Outside, the hills
are covered in moonlight
against frost. In a cold room
a man shuffles cards
in half darkness. [Read more...]

The heat keeps them rooted.
Heat within, heat without.
Flame refracted in the congregation’s eyes,
their own matchheads hidden
in the quiet space behind the pupil.
Raging. [Read more...]

How quietly the morning comes
in this city of cacophony, like
a woman without ankle bells,
suddenly standing at the door.

[Read more...]

Lacemaker with bone bobbins:
braided mesh with slim, oval leaves.
Plum on black silk. [Read more...]

The impossible is never really there
only the shadow of the shadow
in the way you would ask me things

and then believe what I would say,
the moon is purposeful and green
on Leap Years and religious holidays, [Read more...]

I’m serious as Yoko, hand claps
nothing similar, none digital, no finger
pointing out a tiny word written on the ceiling. [Read more...]