Selected Works

“the old world is dying, and the new one is unborn yet. Time of moths.”

“The yard is vast. Is it life’s luxury, where a cascade of sensations dazzles the boy.”

“The rabbit’s black marble of an eye looks at him.”

“Hello, Ms. Tom Latin.”

“Flowery language will not, cannot, hide the gnarled rot.”

“Batter my heart, five-eye’d God”

“He delivers death to legions—whence, he does not know, and why never crosses his mind. The only questions are how and to whom.”

“This Friday we can get tipsy; I’ll cry, you’ll tell me I’m beautiful, read to me…”