Snowplow
mother, the trees on the boulevard look like men, and when evening falls, I imagine how defenseless they must feel, unable to run or...
Prayer in an April Blizzard
the world is falling purple. lamplight glazes the muted, snow-swept street and the world seems to totter between Heaven and Hell. swallow...
Golgotha
We are the mourners at the foot of the hill. We watch the Roman soldiers gamble in the darkness, We watch the crosses make windows of the...
The Boy on the Bridge: A Short Story
I. gennēthē It was in the sweet month of April that Calvin popped his head into the world, and with him came the return of the grass from...
Capital Offense
With our hands shoved in our pockets, We are buying things. With the light of day receding, We are buying things. With the constellations...
Helianthemum
There was a Sunday sun rose On a dew-dripped verdant pastor, And on my walk to worship I spied its green church sepal. And the petals...
Martyrs
Look how pretty the muted world In soft colors collapsing. Hear how silent the burning moon In pale ashes falling. Worshipers trudge...
Lemniscape
Here lie all the lovers Making love upon Some ampersand-y beach, And here lie all their childhood idols Burning at their feet. We live...
The Libertines (A Poem in Verse)
Born Nicolaitans, Heretics all, Counterfeits answ'ring A fraudulent Call: Call us lost, Call us sinners, Or Golgathan crooks, Skeptics...
Skyscrapers
On Earth, we are rebels, Each skyscraper we sculpt, A middle finger to the cosmos. “Bigger Babels can be built,” We boast And declare war...
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