Poems of the Week: 2025
It’s been a rainy, relatively windless fall, the aspen leaves clinging.
more
I like to take little sips of the horror, morsels of poisoned meat.
more
Who will call out as I descend, the world blurring by in sleep and despair?
more
Is there anything that hasn’t been sold yet? If it’s true then let’s celebrate.
more
The toes you step on today may be attached to the ass you kiss tomorrow.
more
How High Is the Moon? Too high to be touched, too high to be felt.
more
A dark spot in a clutch of trees tonight, a moon eclipsed.
more
