Night crawlers separate the soil & my fingers
follow, snaring & exhuming, hooking; still alive—
though not in any sense we’d recognize apart perhaps
from my fingering grandma’s ribcage as it writhed & heaved under thinning
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I clear the Grand Bar, the sun a burnished disk
above the gaudy gambling town of Metropolis.
A lone paddlefish, like an ICBM, launches
over the waste pits of Allied Chemical and Dye
squared off into sections for evaporation,
the floodplain furry with bayou and swamp.
The click and buzz of cicadas sink into a spell,
a roulette wheel spinning above the … Continue Reading ››
What’s it like: to escape,
to phase through walls in
smokin’ black & gold but
not splatter yourself small?
I’ve tried to ghost. Sucked down
a pearl necklace of pills, but bricks
are hard—like knuckles—& that
hardness says I’m nothing special.
Do you leave your … Continue Reading ››