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

salamander pond

when i was little we used to go
swimming in this pond down around
Harrisburg, V.A. whenever it got
hot so hot feet burnt blistered
and skin stuck to the air like flies
in pancake batter and we used to find
shriveled salamanders there mirrored
walking slow and disproportionate under
shallow wrinkled waves like blue Jell-O
--they were big fat green brown and
wide-eyed monsters as little boys and
girls who would hold their salamanders
in trembling little hands and name their
dying pets on the long ride home

2River Crossing My WordsScared by the DarkThe Killing MachineCover