Annie Dillard’s Weasel contemplates the umwelt of John Lennon.Having seized its last muskratthe weasel rides to heavenon a trail of half-eaten flesh and bones.Once arrived, its esteem for wildness fadesand its true nature is revealed.It wakes from an aphantasic nightmarebaser instincts melt away,the tacit animal-self vanishes.No longer does it graspat the necessities of the species.It […]Read more "Annie Dillard’s Weasel"
Little Town Money almost enough.Sanity but not quite.Mellow mostly.Bowel movements plentiful.Hunger at times.Pain where expected.Growls and groans,grins and laughter,in proportion.Lambs and lions,about 50-50.Much more copperthan gold.Sex and sickness.Holiness and one barber’s pole.Hardware store.Movie house.Tractors – second hand.But much machineryin general.More than booksand places for a band to play.Scant art.Little style.A lot of unmarried virgins.A few […]Read more "Little Town"
Husband: All Earth I. Led Zeppelin on Spotify, movie posters on walls, Coors Light and Old Spice, here she dove softly into cool dust. At home, it was canyons and dirt, long showers after boring sex. Her husband: all earth. Here, they were all bodies, purple Gatorade, no sleep. II. Third Eye Blind on Spotify, […]Read more "Husband: All Earth"
Joan Rivers 1. on your right the dark thing father’s letter to a tramp college strippers’ dinner you’re not invited crackers from the machine get off stage people expect even from an amateur one good thing necklace from classmates a climber fifth avenue jab and punch rarely real corn-flaked motel dirt-blackened tub hard blinding a […]Read more "Joan Rivers"
Dayton Street Remember when diapers were delivered By a truck with a stork painted on it? I still see that truck once in a while, Like a sighting of the Goodyear blimp. Or maybe I made that up; Memory and reality don’t really mesh. Crashing the Tupperware party, I found more plastic. But far be […]Read more "Dayton Street"
Patti Smith (Lost Objects) kitchen shrinks the mind small framed pantry quietly slowing tiny black fish breathe briny oxygen alive frying in the pan sound scratched lungs aplenty but minute breath sink drips sit herself stay herself smaller sippy widen water hotter daughter husband coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee small photograph for the camera sit […]Read more "Patti Smith (Lost Objects)"
Below is Part 7 of 16 monthly installments for Visitant. ◄◄ Read the prologue / introduction ◄ Read Part 6: Rosemary Tisane: Cautionary Aura Divisa in partes tres, divided into three parts, Gaius Julius Caesar Most folks hear the word Caesar and think salad, but Gaius Julius (100-44 B.C.) was a conqueror talking all Gaul—France, […]Read more "The Jill Hill | Twist: In Parts"
Permeating with Cockroaches the bathtub water runs constantly but only cold now, the cockroaches scurry, a Make America Great Again inspired nationalism pride parade, crossing the Atlantic, in lonely plastic bottles wrapped in corporate ad slogans and drifting hate, a last call to: a last stop in: Morocco Albania Ghana Argentina, suicide seems like an […]Read more "Permeating with Cockroaches"
Below is Part 4 of 16 monthly installments for Visitant. ◄◄ Read the prologue / introduction ◄ Read Part 3: Camo Stripes: Arcus Eyes Moister Oyster: Transport In Florida, people call me Miss Dot or Miz Motley. In grade school, I longed for a shorter name than Dora Motley. I tried on Ot and Dot […]Read more "The Jill Hill | Moister Oyster: Transport"
Kristopher William Locke is a poet and artist born, raised and situated in the Canadian prairies with experience in various mediums including radio, print, web and stage. Readers are invited to join him on the peaks and valleys that exist within, and despite, the flat prairie landscape of his homeland. The result is part of his shared […]Read more "Hello L’Hiver"