Nov 28, 2009



First and only chess game gainst an old man
as dinner guest and at bequest--
Early-middle, and it’s not that he doesn’t ‘check’,
but that the bishop I touch must be moved--
Which is more dessert, than win.







Nov 25, 2009



some words are scripture
alloys allayed
some words are clay
and concave


























Nov 18, 2009































Nov 7, 2009



to prove moonlight is not snow,
i touch the cement and know
like-hued grass and road as cold.







Nov 5, 2009


My hate is a beast of seasons--
A spine of February rain,
eyes of August venom and breath
clawing clear an October moon.

My love, a demon of reason--
A fulcrum tongue canting knowledge
toward verisimilitude
biased by cock-mind and bole heart.

My apathy, inconsistent--
Neither full nor hungry, I sit
that frailty breach twilight sheer.

My will I wish inertial-- Death
a mechanism of muses
fractal-edged in flame-- Death a flute.







Nov 1, 2009



a marble christ

squats, figs in his hand
halfway thru a shit