There’s gridlock going on, my friend;my thoughts are jumbled up against themselves,a rush hour traffic-jam that’s been running on fumes. There’s no service stations in my immediate future;at least none that I can find on any map. There’s bumper-to-bumper now, my friend;my brain’s got clogged up,cast-off incomplete thoughts of ideas,scattered n’ strewn across the pavement,grasped... Continue Reading →
My first shark, still coming of age and less, tail to face, than a yard, made any other rite of passage for ten-year-old me as unnecessary as this brutal act itself. Flailing on the boat’s deck with the seizure of suffocation, its sandpaper skin chaffed and scraped my leg red as the embarrassments of boyhood... Continue Reading →
We build these boundaries along the way despite being born, like me, on perfect ground. Sometimes our voyage can lead us astray. We flee our homes for hearts that don’t betray when our fate drifts and carries us aground. We build these boundaries along the way. We thrive where the sun torches skin and clay... Continue Reading →
I let the chickens out to run free in the field and saw a cardinal trapped inside the coop I built myself from wooden posts painted green and hexagonal wire of lighter gauge. She flew fearfully from mesh to mesh crashing into the fence then tumbling back and didn’t see the open door. There was... Continue Reading →
-inspired by Athena, SpongeBob SquarePants, and Wallace Stevens I skipped class to frequent the Dairy Queenand order a vanilla soft serve cone, with sprinkles.I am the emperor of ice cream, I glean from Wallace Stevens. I dipped my nose cleanin white gelato, called myself a lifeguard, wrinkleslining my jaw. I skipped class to frequent the... Continue Reading →
Eve: I transformed into a night bird,scrutinizing you as you went for that reddelicious apple. I did not stop you. I thought, what if you found the freedomto rib the core, understand what wantfeels like, and to fully embrace it Adam and I, well, we come fromthe same clay. We lay naked together,our temptation wild... Continue Reading →
Barking up the tree of sociopathy, are we? Have we asked about motive? Granted, a 9-year-old school boy gives himself to learning the art of forgery, tracks down daddy’s signature, stakes out where daddy keeps the carbon paper, secretly traces daddy’s signature before committing the crime: signs daddy’s name to his report card. Not once... Continue Reading →
about this piece Perfidioms2026Visual Poetry/Digital Art
about this piece Antsy2026Visual Poetry/Digital Art
about this piece Venezuela2026Visual Poetry/Digital Art
