I lap from puddles,
tasting of blistered bark,
teeth green from moss
the deer abandoned.

fed the fire with Walden,
its spine snapped
like a rabbit’s neck.
Ash branded my palms
with unread philosophy.

Soon it will be winter.

I’ll freeze stiff: a fallen carcass
unless poems hatch inside me,
larvae splitting bone from within.

Today is my birthday,
I’m turning eleven.
My one wish is that when I’m twenty,  
I still feel like seven.
I hear yelling,
An explosion of pandemonium.
I rush downstairs,
Tripping over them.
My smile stretches from wall to wall
I see my loving parents,
Knives in hand,
And at each other’s throats.
The smile fades.
No wishes of any kind.
I return to my room.
Take pencils.
And make myself blind.  

— from my chapbook Glass Three Quarters Empty

Time travel bandits
Einstein the fender ******
and black hole Hawking
H bombs and Exodus plans
Next level nevertheless

My skin flames redness
                    No heart is true
My brain floats headless  
                          Where are you??

My lungs breathe brown
                  My muscles ache angst
My eyes crack the desert
                             Their stench is rank...

My heart beats heat
             My groin is green
                  My bones bleed blackness


                                    And itch in-between!


SøułSurvivør
9.14.2025

I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted within me.
Psalm 22:14