There was no silver here, nor gold, nor copper. There was little more than the occasional trickle of dank, green liquid oozing down the walls or across the uneven floor of the mineshaft. Still, they were sent down to dig.

Dear Orenda,

You subvert me at every twist of your head. Your dreamers lie prone in wait for salvation while the gusts beneath my wings torture their cheating hearts. The sheen of the scales on my back match the notches on their grimy tongues.

Into a ballot box of pre-existing candidates / into an endless series of unlucky paychecks / into a Left of costume parties and facebook pages

I went to visit my body to see how it was doing; it was not very responsive. It pretended I wasn’t there. That’s acknowledgment, a response, isn’t it? A step forward. You wouldn’t pretend if nobody was there. You’d just be you. Your normal, non-observed you. It was definitely pretending.

​​Each mouth a wound or weapon.
If weapon, then the trigger is tongue

some men dispense for spectacle
for unfair light, teeth a crowding

your legs, a mess of wooden spears / to spindle-stomp a landlord

“Can you hear that?” Agent Lightfoot couldn’t hear much over the sound of the engine and the churning spray. Her partner, Deputy Frost, was adamant though. “Can’t you hear that…?” Lightfoot cupped her ear. She could. “It sounds like… singing” said Agent Frost. Lightfoot frowned and listened harder. There was something tonal going on.

we animate the damned / we wave our flags / we march / and / chant / “solidarity”

Hitched a ride from a limousine / fueled by festered gout, / traveled every wrecked highway / until the fumes ran out.

Billie kept a jar of fire in her backpack / for cooking in parking lots / and a scimitar for cleaning gutter fish

I invested in three cans of pepper spray / from the army surplus, / passed them out and bought ten more / to watch the masked kids / choke the air

Or, to quote Marilyn Monroe: / “Its good to have caviar but not when you have it at every meal”

often / I have loved love / as a stranger // but not this hour // you are the witness / of my life