What can a
Mirrorless cage
Hope to look out to
With a lens to cover
Wide angles
And telephoto distance
Guarded by a hood?


Silver Tongued Sic

Opal colors on your neck shimmering so bright
Semiconductor dial for being lethally polite
I’ve seen you feign better than any precedent
Where have the words you’ve plundered been sent?


Look at you go
After that
Flips to zero

Manipulating yourself
Ingenuine laughs

Downright charming
I’m sure that’s your aim

Proud of you
You really play the game
And you make me wonder
If you treat me the same

Black eye
Black hands
Battered and

Taking blows
Still surviving

A silver tongue
Snaking by


7 days
7 nights
Some mornings
With the city

Some mornings
The memory
Of eras past
Like the cars
Passing by while
We drive fast
On four freeways

And the intersections cross

Over mornings we build from
The nights we spent

Old town
Old country
Ships breaking waves
In the ocean deep
Like things buried

Until we go and
Cash those rainchecks
Rituals keeping skies clear
Of looming miasmatic fear

Okay to be vulnerable
Blameless and horrible

Dredging those waters
And purging
Those polluted airways
Acting like they’re
Not doing anything


You hate weakness?
You don’t seem to
Being vulnerable.

Step by step
Down beaches

Up streets where
Were betrayed

No confrontation
By design
It went

I’m sorry

Yet I know
There were no
Expectations outside

Hate weakness
So you
Destroy the

Invisible Man

I wasn’t there
For myself
I was there
For the moment

When you needed proof
When you needed
A hammer to bring down

So I let you use me

Watched you get out
And confront my past

My proud passenger
“Right, Jake?”

Point to me.

Thumbs up as I sip
A cold brew, thinking
Of all the petty memories

Let it go
Run away

Like it always does

You’re stronger than it is
And I’m more invisible
Than I ever




Olympia October
Puyallup in April

It’s all senseless

We’re both passengers
In a seasonal vehicle

Each sidewalk step
Kicks up loose pieces
Of eroded concrete gravel

Skittering down sparsely
Crowded stalking streets

Oly is fearless except
When she’s not

Vulnerability is a constant

Olympia might be corroding
But she’s also consumed

By things exhumed beneath
The asphalt and grass
Thoughts permeating through
The nightlife

Moons burning to black
Ashes in our mouths
And the smoke billows
To a cloudless sky

While we speak we lie
That we’re both not
Hiding ulterior

Ambivalent mist
Floats thick, miles away

Oly October

Just like the city, she’s

Not off, like the way you feel
walking down certain streets
downtown in the capitol city,
but different. A new flavor
of a coffee from Burial Grounds.

A book you never saw before,
In Bower’s library.

Indeed, a store or spot
that you never really had
visited yet, even through what
you’ve said.

You’ve been “up and down this place,
and know it like the back of
the hand”. For certain, but even
then no history can make up
for raw exploring. Don’t you
love it here?

You couldn’t count every
falling leaf in October
just like you could never
know what you don’t know
about your favorite city.

You have to find out. Be as
vulnerable as you first were,
when you were afraid of getting
mugged that one time on
3rd Street, and how uncertain
it felt to be out at night like
that for the first time.

You have to find out.


It’s not about the shot
It’s about the journey

Every riverbank trail
Every cold clearing
That fades
Into forest

Fog lying low
Brisk noontime throe

Looking into the sky
Being stared back at
By abyssal

Why has this
Come to pass?

Looking back
At the
Mountain pass

Did these rocks and trees
Grow here to fear me?
Roots in the riverbeds
Turned to driftwood clay

This pass will know
My veiled face

Pathfinder’s tracks
In this place
Stay stratified
Where they’re made

Dug up dirt
Trembles before
This spirit
Of frostbite

Steps rift
Frozen soil

Eating away
At this wintry domain
In misted isolation
Alone in havoc action

Lungs shocked
By sub-zero air
Blood sluggish
Lashes shot

Each moment a panic
An otherworld

Each shot
A viscous copper
As the hills
Pass over me

Following the trail
Left behind
By my

Can see stoic moss
Trampled upon

Branches snapped
In haste

I will not make
Its same mistakes

Its blood on my blade
My bite will soon taste

The pass quivers again
Knowing I am here
I trespass, yet this
Mountain should fear

A spectre of cold blood
Floating over steps
Of a misnomer prey

An abyssal monster
The size of man

Stalking among
The overcast day