To begin with


This is the inaugural post of a new weekly poetry record!

I have been writing and performing poetry for the past several years, and would like to share that work with a larger audience. The goal is to provide a space to develop craft and, as that space evolves, inspire future collaboration across different mediums. For now, we’ll keep it simple.

On the Sunday and Wednesday of each week I will be posting three-four poems, along with some visual elements. Below you’ll find the first of many.

Feel free to follow this blog and receive weekly email updates, comment directly, or drop a line in the contact page if you’re interested in contributing.

Hope you enjoy.




virtuous, when you were

your body-love and the concept of security
are mutually entwined  with mine
our carceral trajectory, a natural vine

lacquered into distant coats the boiling subsides
and the particles harden to harden you; the distance regains you
this space upending time

gentle tickling in your throat, sanding the tongue against-
air blaring interrupts outside, the signals repairing the fence
they call this growth

gentle stomach allows a smoothe walk, branches willowed forward
remember the thick wind to come hydrate your hyper limbs
well it remembers your skin, anyway

halted eyes while the wood thrusts into the brick
along that way – was it the fever that broke over
was it the babysitter in the front yard with too many hands on youth

is this the haunting that holds over a sweat-ridden bed
is this the hunger of the brain holding forth in conversation
holding out for an entrance underneath the city

elders never learned of autonomy
what could be so slender, they deliberate in marble

“no, I mean, no idea.” – ha

but clicking over, there comes our home, regained
this neighborhood is so hurt for pleasure or paint
pain being the hurtled brick as it brushed blood with sweat of the skull

come on walk with me now, you know
this body used to be your size, and it still swells with fear as yours does
so, your gift better be won, or win when you can, if anything

and now your arms are folded deep and there’s no whittling you down
and I miss those arms that would hold my neck as a ladder, a rung
and you did nothing to deserve it but you did everything to have it happen to you because

you were alive,
and where are you now if not abounding outside this reach

soldier you are out heaping the joys of wartime into that ditch
there the wild sand can accumulate and add depth
holding court and dealing death blows to youth who now know

are you home?
hoped the whole way here
you were alive,

now tongues hold all at height-value
so to speak




Mornings aren’t on salary

Attempt to drain thoughts as early as possible
As if adulthood
Becomes more of the morning
Than anticipation of the night

Slept with jaw-clenched bare feet
Felt my friend and the layover
Of time in memoriam

All I can know
Is lately

Befriend in the summertime
Better coffins now available
Overstock and driving prices
Drive by homes
Collecting from the people
A collection
A recollection of summertime
not always sunny

beautiful children
on the train
what were their names
No one gets to say

And no one is able to ask

“Did you think this could ever happen to you?”
Start a foundation-
Paint the mural-
Hold your remainder-
Keep it mathematical, or-
At least academic-

“Academic Solutions”
That leave us





she said you’d cool off in a few
days, hampered, your clothes peeled off

the sickness of your underarms, hair
bristling, blood rising up to supply your stomach

you’d lean over and heave into the
steel bucket, that noise like lonely alleys

never felt the gaunt look on your face
suppose it hurt to shelter us from it

reeling, the poison dissolving in and around
you, would you attempt to clean it from

the walls of your veins, bristling open
and your last thought, your brother’s

hands, your brother’s hands, your brother’s
hands, and his olive skin and his

son, and Eddy, though they spent
endless amounts to help you simmer

though you endured the best of their
therapies, still silence slipped in

again that last, endless, moonlight thought to
carry you through to your end



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