The Killing Machine

The Our Father

Daddy Long-Legs
Moves ToThe City

Desperation Show

the burning jar


american gothic

the presents of loss

ourselves forsaken

our killing machine

salamander pond

ourselves forsaken

we alone the dead in coffins nailed shut cloistered catacombs--our coffins fetid failing in pools of our words. we ache of them--our words. our rusted nails for panic we ourselves drive them into skin--wood deep. we lock us in--keep us driven lunatic of opulent hunger

2River Crossing My WordsScared by the DarkThe Killing MachineCover