What could not actually could be,
until rescue made him
no longer the alternative to no one.
Tag Archives: poetry
A sad girl at summer camp
She rose to blow closed
the bald spot in her hair
Two exposed now in their extravagant need
You who would have me
run this trail to elude me,
who would have you, and I do.
You slow and I pounce and we
tumble together,
relishing our exquisite death.
It’s all vanity and chasing after wind
But I’ll get it done before I die
When you’re trying to unlock it all
I saw four, maybe five
lightning bolts, and then
a man walked by with a chair.
He was sure, one hundred percent
sure of what he was doing.
He didn’t sit on the chair.
A ghost did. The ghost explained everything,
and everything was perfectly clear.
Razorblade cocktail
Our potent mix of disgust and desire
Wind
Having seen all that it touched,
I see why they call it withering
Windmill on the A2
Blades on trucks
on the freeway at night
gliding will turn
but never in flight
Candle
I’ll lie
before it a bit.
I need
the comfort of it.
Over the river, through the wood
Death shadows us
Utrecht Journal 