To tell the truth, bleeding has never gone over big in my family; golems are of a more solitary silicone nature, but then there’s the human spigot running full blast
All shadows in the world are screams and like stones plopped in water, they form consecutive rings, each one becoming wider than the next until it’s hard to hear anything
I got dealt the right hand, but didn’t know what was left of me. Stepping on broken glass, a breeze cried out and hopped over to the parking lot, for
My heart was in the right place, grown children in the bloodlines of my inner space, a practicum for laboring over my cheese and cracker man whose birth I toasted
Between earth and sky and the bearded light of filtering stars, I walked away homeless, death trailed close behind like a poor relative, but tonight, something in the smell of the
It wasn’t a job for one man let alone a clay man of cheese and crackers. At night after the lights on the block went out, all we could hear