untitled

November 9, 2016

green


Untitled

October 31, 2016

pumpkin


It’s Bob Dylan

October 13, 2016

Congratulations Bob


From Dusk

October 12, 2016

The word, the frogs, the pond, the neither/nor—
‘Neither’ left the fox too much to see,
‘Nor’ for long—not with all them frogs legs for…


At Dusk

October 11, 2016

At dusk, as the cathedral frogs sing songs
of unprincipled certainty, the fox
will circle the pond in search of what belongs
to every fox no matter how unorthodox.
It couldn’t matter less. Your theoretical
frog is not just a cliché—softened by
the fox’s growl—it is an inestimable
blunder. Why, if their song could even try
to rival a great graveyard in honest terror,
it would be as if all creation waited for
a mot juste from a bare nosed but blessed warrior:
the word, the frogs, the pond, the neither/nor—
‘Neither’ left the fox too much “to see,
‘nor’ for long—not with all them frogs legs for free


Untitled [Owl]

October 9, 2016

owl


Untitled [Guitar Player]

October 9, 2016

guitar


The Surface

September 25, 2016

Some people die in sorrow,
some, despite the sleeping shadows,
die like a metaphor.
They compare the earth
to some final value, and
they want to weave the forest
into something good:
some  good new man and woman,
some good new breeze,
some good new  plant
that lives like an onion
at  the bottom of the sea
and watches in wonder
at its huge bulbous skin
as it swims slowly towards
the surface.


Untitled

September 13, 2016

name


Untitled

September 4, 2016

window1