A deepening, richening, falling as children die asleep. Her eyelids clink shut. The warm malleability, the snuggle smell of oatmeal and softly guzzled milk, fade, leave empty fingers, broken eggshells, empty palms. The dark closes, and the cradle is a marble horror. Nothing can’t be knocked away but nothingness itself. Desire pulls my hand…
Category: Writings
Blog posts by yours truly
Fat Tuesday and the Infamous Ash Wednesday-Thursday
God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. If by God we mean a very particular cake that once gave off a delectable aroma and bestowed a splash of bright, beautiful, and terribly artificial color on a muted winter landscape, then yes, God is dead. And we three (oh, three, that…
Terrified by Beauty
Dead, dying, flying, clacking, tumbling – Shining eyes, girl lying in the grass, in the moment, and now the bones. Each second is a hint of death. A year is a nudge. And then you are someone you weren’t, and the eyes were clear and now they are fogged up. Soon they will not be…
BACH CAGED : an isomorphism
This is code and a musical piece combined into a story, notated in poetry. Meaning on so many levels, in so many mediums, into one. Coders, programmers, this is for you! Ah, poor Bach is a criminal, clad in stripes. His pacings across white cell block, would turn the guards’ brains dark. The iron bars…