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untitled 05092012
the appearance of constant movement (merely)that spotted spider crawling in the cleavage between the floorboardstires peel along wet road — an imperfect chill — fleshing dimensionsthe body,…
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Breathless and Sweaty Here on the Sidelines
Adam, is this a printing error? Had McSweeney’s beard-wild intern left notes in the galley? A literary rabbit? A muzzle flash? A clue; smoky fingerprints…
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a four lane highway [draft]
molten machine buzz docked atop the horizontal blow returns to strike cheek and brow with entropy’s graceless glow their whole lives a single permitted useacross…
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trench warfare, v1
here we are again,alone with the screamingwhiskey baby — a thousand milesgone, flies speak a single tongueevery tongue — a pretty girlwalks across the amber…
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Found Poetry No. 2
Say the word swimming. Now say it without the ing. Excellent. You’re up. Spell the word growing. If you take off ing, what do you…
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untitled 031320121245
in the smiling eyes of death we find comedy in the unthinkable flatness of dust we discover photography we are our grains and height awake…
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formless [fragment]
it was a quarter past two in the morning and she knocked on the cold, hand-painted door three times. she often went for a 5-mile…
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