Provide me with the fill,
disrupt the tension,
envelope me in your fears,
let me in.
I’ll make you suggestions
And you take the wheel.

“The passage of the shade left a sort of residue, an ectoplasmic videotape of post-mortem somnambulism, a slug-trail in the dust motes that only she could read. But she had always been very sensitive.” – Lawrence Harding.



Carmen flew along the dusky hall,

A ghost herself it seemed in gauzy white.

Behind her, something almost fluttered,

Her fear impelled her to more frantic flight.


Her limbs flashed ivory in the gloom,

in Zimbabwe, 1992

one stone turned in a thousand years
through wind to face another and nods

small jack russell ran into the road
its owner came out after our van hit it
and shot it through the head

there were no guards at the monuments
because they can't afford them you could
graze millennia-old paintings in the rock

you could rub them away

one lion cannot chase two antelope

small pink-undersided hands like petals
touched my hair because they had never
before held this color I touched back

September is the month of Fall.
There is a wind.
Students go to the mall.
We hope there is no sand.

A wind blows.
Sometimes it is hard.
You have your shoes.
Keep your feet on the ground.

Deep in the growth,
It can be seen by all who are awakened.
The sudden change from tranquility
Interrupts even the smallest of creatures.
While the inward reflection
Nestles under luminous pillars
And heavenly bodies.
Dreaming all but a vision
What is sacrificing others mere existence.

While the power of the dictator
Swells in magnitude and force.
A repressive sense of freedom
Fills the heart
Of all in search of safety.
And a calm blankets the soul,
Unaffected by the presence.
Yet blindness and misconception

The chupacabra doesn’t merely crave
our ungulates, our sanity, our dreams,
but questions what the beast within us needs.

Your goat would make a toothsome delicacy
for such a horrid animal whose wont
is preying on the animals we want
to milk or eat. The wind is moving air,
the air flutters the leaves, the leaves are swirling
in frenzied eddies, as a mega-wave 
of frightened tufted titmice vanishes
beyond the red horizon. It’s arrived
circling the chicken coop to misbehave.  
The chupacabra doesn’t merely crave

Sound bursts from the Nasik Dhol. Son calls it, ‘Exciting!’ Dad finds it mad. Teens are receptive to the trends of time. Frenetic dance in the dry sand, kindled by the cannabis and its cousins. Dust rises from the present. Chenda loses its human fence.

for Gabriel Garcia Marquez

boys left alone
in a second floor apartment
unscrewed all the light
bulbs and flipped on the switch

pouring electrical light out
of the broken orifices,
spilling onto the floor,
into the hall and rooms

overflowing everything until
it all floats, the boys
swimming gleefully, light
as air, bathing in it

to the ceiling, where
they run out of air,
twelve bodies floating, illuminated
overwhelmed

This kid buys my puzzle from a boot sale.
Before he puts his pieces in my hand
he counts out my five hundred. Dazed, I fail
in counsel and he fails to understand.
Kid, that’s your first and my thousandth mistake.
How long do you think you can play that card?
You’d better wise up fast, you’d better take
my word: life’s spelt R I S K. It’s hard
to burst your bubble. But shit happens, man.
If everyone could try before they buy
d’you think I’d be here hawking in the rain?
I bought a picture – cottage and blue sky –

"Excuse me Miss,"
inquired the handsome man,
his silhouette casting a shadow over the book she was enjoying at her table outside the tiny cafe.
"I can't help but wonder why a beauty such as yourself is unaccompanied this afternoon."

She arched an eyebrow.
"Oh? What makes you think I'm alone, Sir?"

Ah, hard to get, he smirked.
"Apologies, that was presumptuous of me."
He glanced down at the hands folded in her lap. No ring. 
"I can only hope he gives you every happiness you deserve."

A soft, gentle smile lit up her auburn eyes.