“We have acquired silver in great irony, fanning with flame / the envy of our tongues, pitying no one but our / Selves everyone else runs from…”

“Fear not the Angel of Death who seeks by name those destined to end. Change fate. Be awakened, rise up from your beds. Do not…”

“Been measuring this goddamned garden / all day, for what feels like all of my / lives, squaring off a plot where I can // build us a…”

“Apparelled in webs of silver, / gossamer guilt blistering with / fingers of gold administers / fire to mouths whose lips a secret / other than their own hold…”

“Primal, ancestral, unequivocal, annual, pell-mell their visit’s relentless panting and / the padded patter of their rugged paws prowling every direction / of the winds whose fugitive…”