from ‘apartures’ (self published January 2023)

From apartures (self published January 2023):


maker 6

the boy intent on crushing his privates with a seesaw is the same boy who sees you next week to put stars in your belly. There is still a boy you aren’t 

when you’re sick 
of stars  


WALK, NO

Silence leaves to quiet another gunshot for its garden. I am here to sleep with you on the the wasp-carried touch that's become god's mind. 

Birth isn't the only way to reach our children.


I PRETEND THAT MY TEETH ARE THE TEETH OF THOSE WHO’VE SEEN MY TEETH

only god would fake sleep in an empty house


house 1

we are slow with our loneliness
so slow that god
thinks in twos

the snow comes for other snow

a spoon 
prays
to a mirror

no one can watch

and the snow
gets away


house 3

whose childhood
was the longest
there is always
one friend
with a nosebleed


IT IS DARK IN A BRIGHT LANGUAGE

Cornfield, christ, a clueless star. An orange toad setting fires in your father's younger stomach. 

I love not writing. There is a spot

you have
spaces

~~~~~

apartures, 125 pages
poems, January 2023
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