the “cosmic” flavor of the cloud
from her vape
Category: meadow
more dead children
I go for a walk in rain
that should be snow
At the encampment of the damned,
there’s so much less fornication than at the encampment of the saved.
Christmas morning
all the trees graffitied
with fresh snow
old jawbones
lying at right angles
my camera is a phone
I dreamed I’d written a book about all my disguises.
When I woke up, it was true.
A dream is like a small animal that disappears when you chase it
but will come back if you offer it food.
on the morning
of my departure
leaves bordered in frost
Internal division is in your best interests
if it means being always prepared for a change in the wind.
This coiled resistance may become a spring—
the first arabesque of a new wild.
