Bitter grot,
daily grey hemlock pulp
wavy lays and apple flesh
at lull.

Brain floating static,
the kind that builds
in shoulder muscle
pushing through an image
mostly null

and void--

a happiness inherent in
South Korean absence
beaten to death by
self & blood & head--

a black that follows everything
in late class hurried laundry pickings
red and blue striped glass
of smoke & life & pine.

Needles ***** the sides of aether sighs
Halving forests by signing
American english bible verses
to the sky.
The path is inside
beside the others.
Content ears
hear nothing new.