Making It

“No, I don’t expect your applause— / I never look out, only in; / never succumb to consensus / or self-censorship, temptation / I’d rather welcome than your fuss…”


Pleasure in Exile

“Centuries of fetishized feet / soot Parisian streets, / biblifying secrets they reek, // walking apocryphal as purged / stories of burnt-out / celebrities masquerading // as bright revolutionaries / dirty traffic…”


Promontory Palace

“Beside a river she lit a match and called her / mother a whore, honeyed thigh bones enlightening / the crone with what drew her from her…”


Bawdy Count

“Persuasive-abrasive, he runs / blond-mouthed and self-interested / throughout my southpawed narrative, / his mind open-fisted, we punch / cards time offers with limited / liberty, our satisfaction / gambled on…”