When life is done
and parrots are gone...

While peeling
an orange I think of...

After the organic death
of soaked breast...

Lashed together
for a better tomorrow...

Violence unalloyed.
I want you to hear...

Witch hazel jumps the
gun. Questions arise...

1
The reluctant thereness...

Burying
your titanium teeth...

A nascent cry
demands the signature...

The supermoon was rising with
a great aplomb to shame the stars...

The frozen voice hangs on the
door. A crowd waits...

You always repeat the moons
in your eyes...