Life is short, though I keep this from my children.Life is short, and I’ve shortened minein a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,a thousand deliciously ill-advised waysI’ll keep from my children. The world is at leastfifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservativeestimate, though I keep this from my children.For every bird there is a stone thrown at…
Tag: imagine
Trashed
On the first page of my scroll I’m in a small provincial cityIn a frisky foreign country The apartments all darkenedMinuscule storefronts shuttered Hours before a suggested curfewIt’s always a cool and calm evening My traditional “sober” mask in onI’m walking past a trim street corner Where I admittedly shouldn’t beAlone, wavering and coatless againOut…
EP: The Herdsman
I’m herdsman of a flock. The sheep are my thoughts And my thoughts are all sensations. I think with my eyes and my ears And my hands and feet And nostrils and mouth. To think a flower is to see and smell it. To eat a fruit is to sense its savor. And that is…
Antiseptic Zirconias
A boy collected dried elks from gangling husks in Jersey kicked land moved north on purple quails randomly several tried understanding Victor who x-rayed young zigzaggers
EP: Envoi
Go, dumb-born book, Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes: Hadst thou but song As thou hast subjects known, Then were there cause in thee that should condone Even my faults that heavy upon me lie And build her glories their longevity. Tell her that sheds Such treasure in the air, Recking…
Sandy Toes
Sand is always unsteady Never still Where will it end up Stop stirring When will the breeze tire Break free Will it escape the moon, Or clap With a sizzling audience Carrying warmth Swirl through cracked roads Remaining fluid Rubbing the darkest corners As freed grains Burring unfamiliar wisdom In the glass By Amaury Genao
EP: Suppose
suppose Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head. young death sits in a café smiling,a piece of money held between his thumb and first finger (i say “will he buy flowers” to you and “Death is young life wears velour trousers life totters,life has a beard” i say to you who are…
EP: Bouquet of Roses in Sunlight
Say that it is a crude effect, black reds, Pink yellows, orange whites, too much as they are To be anything else in the sunlight of the room, Too much as they are to be changed by metaphor, Too actual, things that in being real Make any imaginings of them lesser things. And yet this…
Silent Apartment
Who is really listening to my ludicrous deliberations as I pace nonchalantly during a mid-spring evening, filling glasses with dark rum as the moon ascends above me Chunky clouds cover an elevated ocean hiding incoherent mumbles with a sluggish thrust of Yellow Sea breeze It’s behaving like a hushing white noise, or a full mouth…
EP: Empire of Dreams
On the first page of my dreambook It’s always evening In an occupied country. Hour before the curfew. A small provincial city. The houses all dark. The storefronts gutted. I am on a street corner Where I shouldn’t be. Alone and coatless I have gone out to look For a black dog who answers to…
The Eclogues 
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