Poetry

But then they come, the slow gray monoliths.

You bet it takes a miracle to explain

metaphor is to logic what analogy is to twins

This year I’ll feel the light of the tomb on my own bones

the birds of winter are resting in resilient decadence or I’m not resting when there’s so little time left for resistance

When I was a boy, I considered becoming a nun because I didn’t want to shave part of my scalp