“Palms and fingers twisting like roots escape / filth and deep earth, tasting its conjuring / brother and sister dance without regret / on mother’s grave, holding hands…”

“Taking the torch in the darkness, / paying his overdue homage, / a poet a maker using / language and letters not only / to honour him but to…”

“Picking up stigma like radios / trafficking in weak signals, even / a transistor couldn’t resist her, / this palpable desire firing us / like blind neurons riding abandoned…”

“Could marble move its cough’s immutable chill, / you’d marvel at how stone falls at will, healed ills / chiseled from a soul until silenced, hell’s heels…”

“As above so below, where cold misery / follows his loss in hot pursuit, mouth foaming, / flagrant anguish pulsing as he pauses to / watch, with ancient…”

“Let’s end this world together— / living as we are, like we’re / already dead— // Our spines chained, rubricator / and illuminator—slaves / bathed in the red // When…”

“To roll up the sky like a piece of skin, / falling from some forgotten god’s weak fist / giving us each the finger, how we pass…”

“Kicking up breath to write with or die in, / sinking feet pause as if to say, ‘Climb in,’ / defiant lungs holding off collapsing / sight them…”

“Shattered glass streaked with ink / scattered across the bowl / of the sky breaks under / one lost soul’s crippling wait, / anticipation’s forced / hoarfrost breath creeping poured…”

“Occulting light behind a veil of grief, / sea salt deceives eyes the past weeps to free / of water’s tyranny, of itself, night / without currency bankrupts…”