I’m beset by dreams where I fly and I
wake cold and remorseful as I cling
to the solid state of my bed, eyes wet
with self doubt. I’m a masked man
climbing, unstable and free then the
sun rises and snaps me to the ground
where I see a soul encapsulated, cold.

The barking dogs make me shiver as
I fear the subhuman forms will still
overpower and emasculate all I’ve
worked to be. I climb to the roof and
the world below is static, unmoved.

I am no hero though I feign to flight.


Fire Sale

the way they sold it
with the dewy eyes
and the dreams inside.

just then they moved it
away from me and you.
Out into the unseen.

this time I’m
running on water,
running past sound.

this time I’m
trying too hard,
running my mouth.

change is a motion.
We moved away silent,
torn and thrown to the ocean.



walk backwards
without looking
at the mess
dinner’s cooking
where we left it
stirred and wet
it bubbles
circular swings
in buttered
muscle memory
where we drowned
any semblance
of respect

terra firma
speaks too kindly
of your stomping
feet and splashing
of crimson
from whence
we were all
the same

you’re right to
blush my bride
my crush
these vague
veiled whelps
cloud my mind
i’m soaked
through with
drowned and
risen again
as an anointed
of course