Pseudo-Ashberry Thing

The trees are all stripped of bark.
No one

walks along the beach in the afternoon
where

the rocks are littered with dying crabs.

Broken shells….

The shadows
are furious.

Where did we hide our faces?

You wondered about silence, but there
was no one there

to know.

fragment #3

He had erected an altar
to the guinea pig
and fed it bodies.

All of its lair was
covered in pieces of
small children.

fragment #2

She looked like a bird
strung up by its face in the evening.

The snow had started to fall.
I thought of torches.

The sky is full of
locusts tonight.

fragment #1

We walked across a lake
in the afternoon. Looking at pictures.

My father struck the wall so hard his image
remained imprinted there for years. Evening came.

I thought of Theseus: planting
flowers in the labyrinth.

Women dressed as Christmas trees
playing cards. Women dressed as

inverted pyramids
hurling boulders at the sky.

Pictures of dinosaurs. Pictures of dinosaurs.

Listening to music,
like existing, is a passive

experience.

First Post

I will write things here soon.