My Border with Death

The line is still tight taut,
the one I could not cross

Read More

Whither…?

womb
work

Read More

Unscheduled Reviewings

You never know which ones will stick,
survive by burrowing deep

Read More

My Failed Intervention

The cherry’s juice bled red across my hand,
my nail ripping boldly at the rot, a spongy darker spot.

Read More

Habituated Ease

Ahhh, the joy of old.
No straining or explaining

Read More

Death’s Varietals

So many ways without warning
to die too young:

Read More

Blemishes

pimples are simple, eruptions on skin;
scars, complex relics, obscure origin.

Read More