The texture of my
The texture of my soul is abrasive—
A resilient soul— (3 Haikus)
A resilient soul— your cup emptying— and your heart overflowing
When my needle
When my needle breaks your skin it stings
A heavy stone I cannot eat— that is how I miss you
A heavy stone I cannot eat— that is how I miss you
Crumbs—
Crumbs— I kept from falling
Humility hurts
Humility hurts like a heart attack
The night is long like a syringe—
The night is long like a syringe— drip by drip time is drawn out slowly—
Exposed like in an open ward
Exposed like in an open ward the washing machines lie bare in columns
That bombastic buck
That bombastic buck of a gun came in cussing a muck full of sons—
Like an east wind
Like an east wind, I fly down the stairs My gym shoes— half on— land on cold, wet pavement