October red
We call ourselves military might inIt could be said the porousCharacters of history in droves The doves drive cars The…
Script
The past is a kind of fiction. There is nowhere for water. For an abecedary wants channels and through those…
A jar is a helpless portion
When rain helpless in portion and co-habitatedBy muscle-memory the ghawazi evaporatesA guest who is always just entering the roomWhen charred…
The vigil with the shore
The guitars crash into the shoreWe’re breaking out of hereLetters grey behind smokeChar grass into paths loosen Ton on it…