Posted in Misc, Poetry

january ii

It seems that the more you know,
the less you know;

When only vines hold your bones together,
and all you have is dust,

Is there a bark-covered sparking neuron
that remembers?

Posted in Misc, Poetry


i think the new year’s harsh sunlight,
the dry wind – chapped lips, dry skin
might just carry me away to a foreign place;
a place where i know myself and
where to go, what to do.
i think they might just consume me,
swallow me whole.
(i’ve only ever known what to say.)