I’ve been trying to think of a word
For a few hours now.
Something specific,
That could hit a kind of specificity.

It’s you.
You should be indescribable.
I’m going to try to.

You are a phantom of phantasm.
A specter of something I can’t ever
Be asked to dare to imagine
Or dream.

Because I can’t dream anything
Like you.

You’re an energy, a purity.
A harrowingly powerful
That has me.

I can’t figure out what you are.
And it’s amazing.

I want to understand you,
But I never will.
I just want to know and cherish you,
And I hope that you’ll let me.

Let me exist and breathe
In the world that you made.
I only want to be here and spectate,
And be something you can toy with.

You made this world of
Ultimate imagination.
Just let me see all of everything
That you have made to be.

I can’t think to ask any more of you.
You already have me in your hand,
Just take your brush and paint me
Into your ever-so wondrous land.

You perplex me simply that much.
To the threshold of my yearning
To give you my keys
And trust you with me for a night.

You entrance me, and have me
In the palm of your hand.
I would trust you to make the choice
To crush me or keep me there.

So I pass to you
A thing most important.
I trust you.
Keep it safe.

It’s this writing of mine you have.
Every time I do this,
I carve out a small piece of
What makes me me.

And here’s a piece of me
For you.

Do with it as you please,
But know I cherish even
The smallest fact
That I know and can give it to


These are the words I found for you.

It’s quite the ask, I know.




Where to?
It doesn’t matter!

Plot me a course, will you?

Yes, those mountains DO look nice.
There a path nearby?


Don’t mind the bumps,
Don’t mind the lumps,
Or the rocks on our path
Up the tall mountain pass.

Where to?
We go!

No matter the place,
We’ll go!

How to Say This

How to Say This


Words words words
Should be easy to find
But somehow they elude

They should be evanescing
Like butterflies from chrysalis
But they’re flying away
Abandoning their stead

The cask is cracked
Syllables are exhumed
Cocoon is in scraps
So the tatters float

So maybe it’s not the time
To seek the words we find
Yet something drives us
To keep up the mythic search

Eldritch Wires

Eldritch Wires

What a force this is
It’s incredible
It’s so strange how it moves me

It’s as if all my atoms were on wires
And they lifted me up to the sky
To fly, and show off this raw
Power controlling me

It’s been so long since I’ve
Been taken like this
It’s still fine with me
Because I love it

I knew you were out there
Ensnaring me from the depths
Of a multitude of

Without me even being aware,
You, eldritch thing, had me
At your feet and begging
For your harmonic mercy

Petticoat Duel

Petticoat Duel

With skirts flowing
And roughed knees hiding,
They appeared in the meadow
With witnesses spectating.

Two coats taken off,
Expensive satin fell
Into the tall grass
And never retrieved again.

Corsets exposed, loosened
And dueling pistols produced.
Now the two women could breathe
And move with the right prowess.

So they each took a pistol
From the velvet case.
An ebony pistol, and an ivory one
Wielded now by the other.

Seconds ticked, seconds watched.
The two women took steps apart,
Turning only when the distance
Between was acceptable.

And they each raised an arm,
Holding an ornate breech-loader.
Pulling the hammer back,
And firing until one had departed.

Forever Seam

Forever Seam

This is the end.
That place you thought you’d never be.
Yes, this is that abyssal void.
A system of anarchy.
Where the ruler weaves the seams,
And you are lost to time.

No one knows about this time,
This place, this space, this end
Of the borderlands where you seem
To be where gravity can’t be.
Floating up in the anarchy,
Kissing the emptiness of that void.

This void,
Everyone knows that once is their time.
All bracing against the anarchy
Of misery and insurmountable ends.
In this place no one wants to be
You’re now a stitch in the forever seam.

Where gravity is void, it seems
Lost as a concept to the airless void.
Gravity thought it could never be
Without itself. There is no time
To keep in this place of ends,
Where the only reign is of king anarchy.

The riot response of nothing, the anarchy
Remains plotting its chaotic seams;
Bringing about sense’s end.
In this airless, lifting void,
Pressure waves are absent, lost to time;
In the place that should not be.

Time’s anarchical scene ceases to be.
Void’s seams tear and repair the anarchy.
Be it this end’s last time,
Weaving with a needle its own scrap seams,
With an tensionless needle in the void,
At the place where things make ends

Meet, and spitfire sparks seem
To cast out the seams, to be void
Of the things which weave their ends.



You’re getting so terribly close
To that edge

You’re at the fringe
Theoretic binge
Ruminating on what lies beyond

What matters?

Gravity, we know is here
Who else intrudes upon
This asking?

It’s so important to leave
This message

It’s the one you need to understand
This confession in your hand

And there


Breaking for the melee

Racing years in light
Dancing ripples
Grinding grid rails




Take everything sensible
And show you the
Next dimensions

You walked the fringe
Now cross over

Shake hands with the searing light

Become friends with it
Leave the rest behind

They’ll envy your passing
Even though they don’t understand
Where you’ve gone

Tragically lost
In that first dimension


Don’t apologize

Let them mourn and grieve
Perhaps even worship you
As the martyr they always

She who met the nova

She who spoke to light

Even in the blast wave
Melted to a purest form

I knew you were there

Distant suns exploding

And you
At the epicenter



It’s been so long since I had
Someone to whisper to
In the dark

I remember gifts I’d give, and receive
The words I could never quite
Make out

Now there’s just the music
Trying to fill that

All that’s left behind
Of the world
That I helped build

Oh this magnetic tape
Machine won’t
Help me escape

It won’t let me find a hole
Of which
To crawl through

Not like the empty void
Who got away from
This dark place

Not like the empty void
Who now tries its best
About this place to avoid



I’ve been killed many times

Every time, I was the one who
Broke my own skin

Yet out of every claiming
Of my pelt

I’ve grown ever so more
Into this beastly thing

Every moment of triumph collected
And mounted, or stuffed
To feign natural behaviors

Hunting myself, so to speak

Hunting myself to extinction
Every new opening season



We hung it up
On all our bedroom doors
One at a time,
Taking turns as the month went by

Our forerunners gave it to us
Generation gaps documented
With every stitch and knot
In the imitated metallic life

This lavish flophouse
Bore our worries since
Any of us could ever

Every day was a new door
Dressed with the decaying relic
Under the rotting wood ceiling
Where rain fell through during storms

None of us had family
Just each other
And all those who came
From another, before

I see outsiders outside my window
Streaks in the cracked glass pane
I think it so strange, that they look
At me as if I’m one who’s caged

My lofted room is my home
Outside can be lost for all I care
All I need is my wreath,
My chaperone

The wreath knows who I am
Every year during this month
For one day of the month
The wreath knows who I am