Talk to me about the letter H
Here is unshaped breath. Can I rename this sleeping air? This sound is an ocean, older than voice. It still hisses from unsophisticated throats. You mistake my interest in phonetics.…
Slow download over a weak open WiFi connection
Curtain flicker: your eyes, no—my eyes, nighttime windows: women walking half-naked back-lit big screen TV, what am I watching? No one made a Netflix special of your smile, I blink…
Premonitions arrive at my house, with and without invitations
The flyers that are delivered despite the "No Junk Mail" sticker on my mailbox are an omen. If there's a truth that everyone should know, it's sold at Canadian Tire,…
Love is such an amorphous word
You must be a ghost because some days ghosts are the only thing worth loving. I mean—young ghost, I don't love you. I mean—I don't know how to splinter love…
Can you define me by what I am not?
Is it absurd to wonder whether galaxies mourn the death of their stars? I assign breath to entities with no lungs; I expect the by-product of body chemicals to exist…