Gloomiferous Pooms

They gather like birds, like fish, with mouths open & necks extended, supping on the azure berries of our divine enlightenment, the...

I have a name. I can't remember it anymore, but I have one. I know how your lips shape it, the pull & pucker, the press of tongue to...

The earliest shoots of spring sing of death, leurs hymnes solennels emportés par le vent, gravity in their greenery as the earth turns at...

Ceremony clambers toward the lackadaisical Bereavement expressed in broken, winding narrative About a creature whose existence slowed and...

Death knows all creatures, even the small and the armored, the mother among fish, the one- footed and thick-shelled. Death sees the kid...

Wo die Liebe herrscht da gibt es keinen machtwillen The iron-rich taste of a fast-beating heart It's the shadow of power An expression of...

The concrete slopes downward, broken, grass shooting through the cracks and thorned branches from next door's roses stretch across the...

I. What I remember of the green depths is not their unfathomable song, but the silence which surrounded it. II. What I remember of the...

When I was a kid I dreamt of a flood, Of water that grew up from the ground Not from a spout, a wave, or a tide Just an arrival from some...

the shadowed alcove entry of a failed arcade is like serrated darkness when rooftop sheers the sky, starless, before this glassed prison...

Whether memory or myth, the story states that he was born to starkness under a starless sky, desolation and darkness his welcome into...

Mountain Ash, Blue Spruce The names of streets are Like fragile wiring in the walls to a young child. Behind stained floral wallpaper In...

I opened the windows today. I can hear the birds singing, still. They say that's what it's like, that there's music everywhere, that it...

You weren't always so agile, light-boned and swift. Once, you stepped like stone was your kin, like you carried a mountain beneath your...

There was too much to witness A crack in glass like icy Little fissures on the pond Cobwebbing outward beneath A mass of ghastly and...

My mother used to accuse me of only remembering the bad things in life. Bad things were like giants in my mind huge trees standing over...

There are no ghosts here. Only the detritus of seasons past, sun-bleached brown feeding violent bursts of green growth, a native uprising...

The last time I dreamed, the world folded and unfolded at angles waking eyes have never seen. It crept closer when I looked askance,...

I brought loneliness with me when I woke, a thread of shadowed gold which I wove into a curtain of gilded pitch and hung upon my western...

i. It burned so cruel and so quick, taking everything I'd built, no chance to save anything but this precious, pitiful breath, routine...