Carpool
The streets were eternal back thenback when back seat was a canopy of armsstretched out like the solsticethe thump of tire on chewed cementjolting the deviance from feeble bodiesMomma was no pilot, bu... Read more
Three Poems
Untitledmy mother is a pile of dust between two bricks unable to be condensed to a finer powder she sleeps in her ashtray next to the cigarettes that numb her I walk through the door just make a good ... Read more