October red We call ourselves military might inIt could be said the porousCharacters of history in droves The doves drive cars The… Continue reading “October red”…
Script The past is a kind of fiction. There is nowhere for water. For an abecedary wants channels and through those… Continue reading “Script”…
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… Continue reading “A jar is a helpless portion”…
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… Continue reading “The vigil with the shore”…