“Fingernails of moonlight pierce the shrink- / wrapped ideal of a dream, pristine crescents of / claws the colour of puddles of ivory / dripped onto rosy flesh, slivers…”

“A shadow of my past dances / on the oyster-slick surface of / poison, slips past my posturing, / drops in, and darkens my glass, dampens my // spirit…”

“When moved by a work of art, that / means we have discovered an artist who / thinks and feels like us, inherent / colloquy leading us // out…”

“Turn the ashes into a smile, / cinders hinting upon truth snow / smoke while sitting next to nothing, / hiding the pile, wiping away / the moral from…”

“should you exist if you believe in my / annihilation? tarnished apples dull / the shine of their wax, since you’ve been picked up / my back’s been…”

“Me moving on & you showing up / digs from rock’s bottom what we chucked / out after letting go, threw up / under rubble the rebels know / hides…”

“Rough sex in the bottleneck / of a bar’s back room, when love’s / a bitch passion is a virgin who weeps // with one eye open, tears…”

“Seven minutes in heaven / and I’m underwater when / you let go, choking to hold // that hand, to wrap my body / and spirit around the breeze…”

“Every critic a recording / angel talking coarse shit with his tussore mouth, / tossing off ribbons of silk they piss / into my poet’s ear, weak things…”

“It begins with an act, / putting a lamp in a cabinet, / fire in a basket, seed / in your hand, then fingering into / a womb your…”