Not this neck of the woods again.
They say Annie Wilkes found you
and brought you here.

You know the face,
but not the name.

Leaving so soon?
You just checked in.

Death is not a parallel move.
Neither is living at the
Love will terrace apartments.

Eye of the needle and thread.
If wolf is at the door,
Guess who's in bed?
Butcher, baker, candlestick maker?
Or is it simply Norman?

~
In the days of Jupiter
during the age of
lovely intimate things

the abundant rain giving life
to a lactating mother

bloodletting
cloudburst

her magic ocean
and incipient seabright moon
together at the center of creation
~

I have thoughts.
A moment caught.
Multiplied by infinity.
Which creates a problem.

So I used to live in a cave.
Now, not so much.
But sometimes, it feels like a cave.
That’s why I………………….
Get up.

Sometimes.