Cradlefish
Now a small cradlefish—
his brain rocking in the skull,
adeptly learning his earliest youth,
this soft havoc of ribbons and spit
is the baby…
Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category
In the Garden of the State
When the self undergoes delineation
in the matrix of a psychoholo cube,
a fluted and opaque blossom
with an articulated stem emerges:
Where Shadows Come From
What if there was a light that
burned always—
one that pushed out the dark and let us
move into its steady warmth?
