The evil city? You
become the smallest...
Sometimes, I want to write
a folk poem, without name...
Moisture was becoming
the strength of dry eyes...
A butterfly
in a bell jar...
Segment by segment
the secret breaks. There was...
I thought my little mate the blackbird
was being bullied by his flock...
I would let it go
anything now. Will not accept...
It's that time of year
when veins of a leaf...
Bright neons dance renegade
Over the mountain top...
Stoned to death.
The rooted plants had begun...
It takes billions of years
for ancient light to reach us and...
I will meet the moon
on the terrace...