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into empty sky

text of earth, ocean, and breath. Let me, too, inhabit

there must be a door — a door

My hybrid piece on Heavy Feather Review

with snot and ice cream

Removed from my usual self, just footsteps

the savant who believes mustard stains

a slippery thing lugging a roof on my back

Pause for station identification

like silver dollars dropped in the deep end

When the wren wakes I’ll ask

Still, I listen. I search

I listen for fraught accords between soil and stalks

the fate of the cruel & unusual

or maybe things were not communicated clearly.

Tell me, train-sound

der Nebelgang

Always With the Questions!: One Poet’s Writing Manual

Und Leiber stiegen auf / ein Tausendklagen /

the methodology of giving up

and stops the smock and linger of pond racket

Toshi doshi ya

I threw my voice

I eat the many possibilities

Sneak Peek from Always With the Questions!: One Poet’s Writing Manual

the eloquent purple, those heart shaped leaves

the future I’m reaching for

to hide the sound of the groaning enormity

be visited by a dream of the world as kind

Excerpt from my new book: Always With the Questions!: One Poet’s Writing Manual

like a genie bottle waiting for miracles

Two Poems up on Plant-Human Quarterly

I stay up late listening

What flight of legs is always a thing falling?

most exalted fixture, an angel

mass of heat, but without flame. All these years

morning, lies as if

everything breaks

through a sieve quick & gone—

shifting uneasily under

I am working on drying up the rain that puddles in my subconscious. I am working on sleeping

teasing out a future that wouldn’t be

and when you look back

When you turn around, starting here, lift this

past: spores, gills, fins. No roots or leaves. Then birds cloud the skies, giant animals

pressure change and distant noise