The Decade FollowingAfter ocean batters ( Read more... )

Crack

This is where the wheel winds down,
The white and broken tundra,
This redundant confession,
This waste as fractured words
In smoky heaps.

The novelty of haunted breath
In rapture
Lifts and leaves,
Displaced like ice for bones
By pinching lungs,
A myth
Like autumn.

You only think
You wish to know her secrets.
We never wanted this.

- 8/29 ( Read more... )

OrientationThe brittle clatter of fingers trapping keys ( Read more... )

The First Movement Finale

Skillet toast,
A boiled egg,
And you.

The dirt-like specks of yellow yolk,
The growing fire
Feeding within.

Evening,
Night,

We drain our pints and watch
The starving river
Consume the southern land,
The hungry rush below
Let loose
By the gates of the dam.

- 6/25/19

Hardly AnythingA business man ( Read more... )

Lit by LightningThe summer sun is fixed ( Read more... )

Ebbing

There's never work
Enough

These oven days
Anxiety

Aflood at night
Engulfed

The shore is blessed
And carried out
Away
Apart

- 5/8/19

Breathing In
(The South, May)

We shun the air conditioning
Because the money,

Air that deadens under
Shaded heat and water drops.

The fans are soundtracks
Of these scenes,
These shiny sticky glimpses
Into glory.

Through the motored breathing,
You can hear a doorway opening
Above.

- 5/7/19

Running the River
(The South, November)

The slack Saluda
Slides too slowly.
It cannot carry silt.

The metal orange bridges
Rattle as you wander over.

The older men all carry hair
Unnaturally black.

- 3/19/19

Yoga

It's always a stretch,
A limb in an innocuous area
It never would go on its own,

The pleasing ache,

The focus all too tight,
Too high,

The talcum out of place
As misty drapery throughout the room.

She said this couldn't break.

- 5/6/19