zinc words & images

  • April 28

    My opinions about the world are solid, but none of them reflect comprehensive reality. I never have had a conversation while watching a white-hat, beignet-slinger about the mastery of frying oil and what this spot looked like in 1620. I prefer a click on the vibrant light of false hope. Watching when love doesn’t manifest.…

  • April 27

    Puddled city cast in twilight Nighthawks converge in the night, watching the gutter-pools speak of love so bleak. All night pharmacies with attendant sinners see refracted stoplight glimmer stopping them at the auto-door and causing them to wait a minute more. Wet residue, rainbow-hued, parking lot tarnish dropping globes do concrete varnish. Couples of the…

  • April 26

    I’m pent up without words locked lip to lip calls and clicks crest my ears. I can hear for the first time. Like holding doors for tiny, intrepid octogenarians and visiting with ease, those names marked by a blue-capped pin. The memories enact your footsteps on the snake-like pattern laid across green summer grass. You…

  • April 25

    You left that note for me, a box of appreciations from you and 500 strangers visiting from each town with a logo’d baseball cap. Written was the relay of our first meeting. Demeanors are sometimes attractions invigorated by sudden recognition, all in the truncated five minutes afforded those with employee discounts. Depth doesn’t know alarms…

  • 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 23

    Long drives until you called to me “Look up at the green geometry of the roadside.” Beside us was the impetuous landing, the cardinal sin of history, mounded with earth. Zephyrs were slower, so my hair billowed, expanding weightless, weaving in and out like the dusky trails of a 4th of July sky. Directional messages…

  • April 23 #2

    On repeat I hear your favorite song, so much harmony and the sad energy of contemporary men who have dogs but no purpose. It is elliptical or epic, beginning with the story at the end. Flourishes and backbeats, breaking the audience’s necks as if their heads were brushed by the hand of an unseen uncle.…

  • April 23

    We picked up where we left convivientes and conspirators looking to chase the showering moonlight. you held my hand, lead the way to the dawning. I cannot forgive the path for not returning you. Life wicked off in my hand and midnight recesses recall your visage in reflection, shadowed memory. Floating above your twin bed…

  • April 21

    I love the urgent pressure between spine and stern that requires me to fold you into my body bring you closer smother and consume you bury you along my ribs and raise a monument to your existence in my belly. Balancing on a pebble leaving time and digging fingernails deep into decay and reliving the…

  • April 20

    Your skin spoke to me as a longitudinal study of music, theater, art, politics, strummed against my body and the beat of a fan overhead moving particles of the temperate flow. Cold dampened my toes and fingers until I could not retain my kindled words. The prickles of a ghost were partnered with your eyes…