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

the presents of loss

The presents of loss, valid as hunger, are packages sent UPS on birthdays--wrapped in bright cellophane color but containing nothing. Unwrapping them makes the time pass too slowly--I slowly pass the time with head in hands in front of the window wishing I could turn the pavement into wine. Down the street someone's radio blares rap. It screeches oddly through the rabid laughter of the birds.

2River Crossing My WordsScared by the DarkThe Killing MachineCover