oranges (for Ethan)

like the eruption of flames
in a nighttime garden,
I have forgotten to put my
soul on the market and
weep for the plaster
saint’s tired caccoons,
as I continue to gather
oranges for Ethan and the
talkative and drunken sunflowers,
listening to the wisdom
of an army ant, talking you
to sleep, like the films
burnt into the aging sides of
houses with taste buds
living inside, watching us
as much as we were
watching them, not once
sharing an orange,
until now.

i think i dreamed you

television static-
her camera has seen god
and has heard the
sounds of winter in july:

my silence breathes you
like whispers in your sleep.

the blues and purples are
as infinite as one last
cigarette on the ocean,
an orange on a dead
or dying tree they named light,
and we wait there for
nothing, and nothing fails
to come, like a stone path
or a nostalgic box of photographs,
lost in space, found in time’s
closed eyes.

A Sleep/Less Night: A to Z, Fowlpox Press, 2015

It has been a while since I’ve mentioned my chapbook, A Sleep/less Night: A to Z (Fowlpox Press). You can read it HERE, in its entirety. Still grateful to Virgil Kay, the publisher of Fowlpox Press for accepting the piece.

I wrote the entire chapbook in a single night and the only editing was done the next morning over the course of around three hours as I typed the poems from my chicken-scratch drafts written on a few folded/stapled pieces of printer paper, then re-typed them from my typewriter (where I made a few more minor edits) into a word document. Moments later I hit send and by the end of the day I got an enthusiastic “yes” from Virgil Kay. Within a week the work was published and floating around the web. Very grateful, indeed.