A Muddy of Colors

There is a dissipating storm slipping over the tips of the Alps. A broken man begging coins in Houston. A potter with shaking fingers, no longer mending in Calcutta. My shadow eluding me in dark Boston alleyways. Your eyes are headlamps, mirrored windows, light flashes behind my eyelids. There is a snake, listless, long, and leering, at … Continue reading A Muddy of Colors


....I'm working on something a bit bigger lately. Which means I may not be posting here, or, the opposite. I have this tendency to wander into a million side-projects whenever I start something significant - I'd like to think it's sort of like a sculptor chipping away at a big block of marble, and noticing … Continue reading So…..


Forges burn, quicken flesh which passes through. The cooling is the greater pain, those who have lost it seek heat, a return to some hint of passions burn. Light matches which stutter, wink, fade. Rub sticks which crack, rip hands, disappoint. Their eyes frost over, Lips grow numb - For nothing warm will ever come. … Continue reading Afterburn