No one is home, or maybe they arethey’re just not answeringwe cannot connect fingersacross the electronic divide data mines data
Thick books of poetry are dauntingseemingly taunting from behind their coversraising phrases that could’ve been yoursbut pushed by others we
I am an onion beneath the surfacea bulb petrified by the flashI think myself into faceinto attentioninto mass reflectioninto oblivious
The lights don’t reveal things as clear as they used toand with a dim energy my chest plods along No
Dionysus as woman, Apollo as Man.Apollo as woman, Dionysus as man.Woman and man both Dionysus.Woman and man both Apollo.No exit.
I am an I for the sake of addressthe capital I all that comes afterbeing sequential because to explainto the
My brain makes uneasy the things my eyes allow in I think my agenda is my own but my existenceis
The old horse is led from the stable and taken behind the barn where he is fed dry hay and