figments
I saw Atropos sharpen her shears. They slid with a shing! across the whetstone as she perched on her stool, honing alone. I saw Atropos sharpen her shears.…
Not an injection but rather a stab By a syringe that suckled your veins Pulling venom into the vial That holds the pollution to streams That I’ve tried…
Sestina for the Black Deathwatch Beetle It moves at dark, emerging from the shadows. Silence mutes the scuttle of a black beetle, whose wicked wander illuminates the all-pervading…
gravel beneath our backs and headsbites like little blunt teeth aswe lie alone in the desertbeneath a night sky strewnwith lights like grains of sand.we name the Pleiadesas…
Isn’t it a tragedy a pity a shamethe reason we’re all here today waiting for the detective to leap on the table likea Labrador eying the Christmas turkey…
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