Monday, July 16, 2018


It's small
This hole of my throat
So how can it feel like this
Endless spiraling chasm
This unaccountable void
Like something huge
Wound up inside me

I yearn to fill it with words

String them together
Somehow, in some way
A knotted cord on which to cling
But nothing seems to stick
And I'm just holding empty threads

My father taught me
That to stop the rope unraveling
You seal the end with flame
But I guess, in a way
That's the problem

Because there's nothing inside me
And nothing for which I burn

Friday, July 13, 2018

Infinity Mirror

I move through the world
Like a funhouse with its
Thousand broken mirrors
Projections cast from the eyes
Of all these solipsistic ghosts
Each with their own painted image
To adorn my fleeting form
That ship in the fog heavy night

Somewhere in the fathomless
The sign of my passage
Strikes distant shores
Overturns small things 
Buried in the sand
Unknowing minds
Touched by my wake
Empty vessels that
Unwittingly carry
Some fractured sense of self

I yearn for this place
I've come to believe
Where the water is so still
And my image sits unbroken
In a crystallized momentum
All a million shining shards
That reflect the things
I believe myself to be

An imperfect glass
For an imperfect being
A face reflecting face
To have that be received
And create a light
That extends infinite between us

Thursday, July 12, 2018


A camera is this thing
A box made of metal and plastic
Fitted with mirrors and lenses 
And a hole to consume the light 
It diligently reproduces 
What I tell it to see

The aperture controls the depth
I open the iris wide
In order to make it see less
A thin line of perfect clarity
While everything else
Becomes unimportant

My eyes are lenses and mirrors 
They see an imperfect 
And upside-down world
That my brain then sets right
My mind diligently telling me 
This is the way things should be

You see
I am the opposite of a camera

I have trouble remembering 
The days become a streaming blur
Though daylight fills my windows 
A darkness still persists
The dim creeps in from the edges
like a cancerous vignette
It consumes the light

It becomes hard to focus
And I get this sinking feeling
That I'm out of my depth
Like I'm living in a tunnel
With curved glass on either end
I have trouble looking 
Beyond my eyes
Everything seems so unimportant

The camera sees anything I tell it to
But I'm not really sure 
How to show you 
What this is
That I'm looking at

And I really would like you

To see