None of these will ever be published.

i have a sketch of the tattoo you described
- have you yourself a sketch?

& the inching closer to a cradle,
discovery mode unencumbered long
a twist in the waist revealing



disparate handshakes.
uneven. several springs
reverted


I wanted to actually write stories, but I can't do it. Where does a story come from? How do you construct a universe around a character? I mean how do you pick one and chill out? As casting a spell into poetry.
The word is still rank, it's still a little bit shaded at the edges. Who calls me what? when did you get there? No one funds this.
Everyone's shine



I have ridden my bike around the neighborhoods these days, through the neighborhoods, repairing flat tires, writing dedications, wanting a series of revelations