zinc words & images

  • April 16

    Tunnels to brackets, stretched and stained, you took your time with wax and the ground particles that made Nero’s bed sheets blaze with the purple of a million emperors. Consumed with thoughts and threads of saffron, dacron, and human stories, you were inside the navel awaiting helios in ascension and the rendering of new firelight.…

  • April 15

    Your hair illuminated and promising, moved me to believe anything possible. With hands pressed you pushed. Tumbling over, I saw myself tall. Time pours out of your head, but words form and wish for things and know the earth, feel the breeze. Smelling nothing, but your memories, it was pain and fire and burning in…

  • April 14

    Every song contains you and revives you Lazarus of my mind. Amber-veiled eyes closed suddenly from the light flashing off cars through your window. Closed, too, for the rosewood body. Blind and rocking in your mother’s lap. Every wrinkle folding and moving your face. Sad child of star and clover, following light without me. Between…

  • April 13

    The shop was open and I stood in line waiting for my turn to be brave, to eat. First, darkly oiled vegetables and fifty years of history. Then, brining my palate in your cousin’s specious crumbs. Now, glycerin-lipped, consuming stolen spice and the arms of your queen. I return to you. Soft smell over still…

  • April 12

    No one can write like you the words spill out my polished heart renewed. Gleaming and cracked you gave to take. It was sound sunk into my flesh made my soul bleed made hope manifest. Who saw when you practiced The lined fingers The bitten pencil? Teresa and Jeff, bodies aflame with crest and trough,…

  • April 11

    The moon flew by us and we didn’t notice and in a moment it begins and ends super swells the dizzy wetness there was too much to the neon eyes the sour rinds and the dragonflies to make us stop jangly pockets spill to the floor and it was fifteen minutes til the lights came…

  • April 10

    The stars were sleeping silently near. And down the hall feeling eternity the disintegration of the soul the dissipation of constitution falling away easily and without remorse. All the day and all the sun aged and old below the bubble that started it all. Side by side lighting the way to the clearing and the…

  • April 9

    Today my son recognized difference. My breath stopped and I saw years stretched out before me, Years filled with rights, wrongs, shades of gray. The future is not available and tells me nothing about who he will be. All I can do is struggle with the idea that he could be terrible or terribly kind…

  • April 8

    There is a certain smell of coffee With national geographic magazines In the big hall. Learning about other worlds And peering at the sameness in front of me And the variety that covers everything.

  • April 7

    Perhaps existing as lone and broken binary code, Compressed and fragmented in some hard drive, in a box, in a closet. There was once so much to know on one single byte. Now an impermeable universe rests and breaks A part, like the contents of Ozti’s stomach or his mother’s history stored in a jawbone.…