By Fiat of Adoration

By - Mar 28, 2018

He is flowering in a doorway
Eyes cheeks haze of hair
Stepping out of time into here

This is what we really have
Who see the one we adore becoming
The two that he is in the light

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Fragments of Jekyll and Hyde

By - Mar 26, 2018

He believes in his ability to control who he is, but he can’t control who he is; he keeps becoming Hyde, more and more frequently, as if, once he’s started, he can’t be anything else.

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Sweeney Frogs

By - Mar 23, 2018

It’s summer time, but I’m down in the red like a peasant. I say ‘Wouldn’t you like some more wine’ to myself and drink straight out of the bottle. I look in the mirror hanging on the wall and my eyes are slits barely opened. I could have been born an avalanche but I am just a person with shaky hands.

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Yes, This is Esther

By - Mar 18, 2018

Each hand resembles the mock pistol that people mock kill themselves with sometimes, hammer thumb and barrel fingers, and right now, frankly always, she feels like mock killing herself, mock ending it all right there at work in front of everyone…

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excerpt of Temporal

By - Mar 12, 2018

I woke up to a bunch of shuffling and banging coming from upstairs. Then Cody’s dad, Larry, full-on burst through the bedroom door at six in the morning, still in his briefs, yelling, “Sam, Sam, wake up! Your folks, their house is on fire.”

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Two Prose Poems

By - Mar 7, 2018

I feel like a five-star restaurant, but I am a fish. I feel like an ethical imperative, but I am a listicle. I feel like an aesthetic, but I’m wrong. I am a listicle.

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