The slip

Is it still there? The sound of trespassers, of purple rains and sweet smell. A cloud that swings words up in the sky a hardened shell of a life, There is a beautiful cottage that I see in my dreams full of centipedes, vintage mahogany chairs. A sound travels me up there in between the… Continue reading The slip

The noise

The noise, I hear it from the shallow bush beneath my feet. Drop by drop. The noise of silence. an embalmed kiss of spewing night an old lady combing the hair, zig-zag, the ghosts on the staircase, too flimsy, often too blatant. I sometimes think and sniff the ink of other poets, the others; who… Continue reading The noise

The Look

  I remember the absurdness of clouds spread over my head, hovering. Blue lilies dancing in the sky. A quiet place of porous Gods. I would stare at the sky, releasing my chemical reactions in the thin air. My orange vase neck, oscillating between the concrete human eye and the prism of soil. I would… Continue reading The Look

Thought factory

I sit here. In the park full of overly grown people. I see a black sky, lights flickering halfway. A subtle ripple of a thought gushing in the man’s eye, standing next to me I emboss his voice to the sky, somehow. A bush full of flowers, sweet nectar from the eyelids submerging my feet… Continue reading Thought factory