Up there In the dressed branches, A Leopardess wears the blood of a beast, Like a floozy wears her rouge In a classy, drunken state. She tires. Like a Queen after a Christmas feast, Her chair creaks, And her belt goes slack, Sighing to muster the effort, To fit in a night cap. Hungry as... Continue Reading →

All but 1

Latching little hooks On a disused picture antenna The fledglings broadcast in chattering yips, squawks, squabbles and whistles That sometimes dip. Like they know that 1 is missing.


Open under a seared brow, And set in thick and rolling skin, Wobbling But glimmering under a head of horns: A beest’s inky eye.

The Rage

In the rage, I cut my shape in granite skies, With horns twisted and skyward In the rage, I stand like a gnarled cathedral Wrought with hot hammers and tongs.

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