Poppy Cult

I hold a catastrophe in my hands.I make a tight cup to stop it struggling out.It builds panic for an army marching,frightened boys fake bravery,their tears parachuting to death.Missiles of burning birthday balloonscelebrate this cult of our making,rivers of blood...

On this side of the mountain

the air was still. On his knees,arms grimy up to the elbows,the old man squinted to surveyuntouched terrain. His steady handwiped off a trickle of sweat, and I watchedas he cut inch-thick tubes of copperfor another void-filling project. Hundredsof tiny, bleached...

Midnight Shift

Aerosol adhesive from the spray gun blows−the polyurethane parts marchingfront and back andfront and back−green and orange hummingbirds in her lungs,nights working the manufacturing line,days doused with drugs and dead dreams.Broken Buddhas line her window sill. Upon...

Habitual

you   wake   themorning     findits     seeds     inyour         palmnow   you  mustscrape ...