Work

Lines in Progress

The following are lines from unpublished work currently under consideration.

frozen in the posture of your exit—

an anomaly in the database

while the real you dissolves into dew

—

I impute your silence, your missingness.

I calculate the story you should be

from the ghosts of our last visits.

—

You are dead,
You count. Finally.

The blue curve is your soundless jagged drop,

—

One of them is watching me count the dust,
watching me tally the too-bright light,
watching me loose myself,
watching me watching.

Publications

Forthcoming.