zinc words & images

  • April 24

    Manet’s hand painted the sad flowers of Paris, and I stood in the cool marble of dead British patriots, watching the eyes watch me. When I look into the 2-dimensional soul, I see myself aloof framed in wood paneling. Existing with emotion and absinthe. But questions: how did these women do it? No tampons? Girdles?…

  • 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.…