Letter 072424
Dear Ethan Hawke
The deal may have been for him to be the son of god for a day. In Ohio, a microwave has two angels. Birth and death hear the same sound. My body and my body aren’t close.
come up god
for ghost
air
Letter 072324 someone smuggled a bone into heaven
Dear Ethan Hawke
Someone smuggled a bone into heaven.
Letter 072124
Dear Ethan Hawke
This hasn’t been a success. Time is the sex life of distance. Snake said nothing, but we’d all hear our own way into sound near the tree of loneliness. You name things to forget who you are. I played with my kids, then didn’t. Shaved my head when there was nothing to eat. The miracle should have been shrapnel to snow. Graves ache nowhere into being. With movies, the bleeding is internal. I hear an owl because that’s what it knows to be. God dies at the speed of god.
Letter 072024
Dear Ethan Hawke
Ghosts are angel money. Everyone in hell lets me love them. The letters will stop. My kids won’t die.
sleeping
back to back
dying
Letter 071924
Dear Ethan Hawke
The writing is only going to get more beautiful. Stop growing, we say. Sleep directs its first play. Its only. God in a glacier. Bombs have everywhere to go.
My sister was born inside a man with no fingers. I held a toy gun. My nose bled. A camera with a human memory told me for many years about my son.
Letter 071724
Dear Ethan Hawke
I feel I’ve been in the room where I’ll die. My little nod to a flower is god at this hour.
kingsoftrain 