In the spirit of fortune-telling that characterizes my new poetry book, here's a random selection.
Words fall on my head like stones on the roof,
a crack on my tongue, smoke in my palms.
Divinity cleans up after the devil.
When I write my bible, heaven will flood the bathroom floor.
Votive #32
I
didn't write the hoax.
I
scratch over the revelation.Words fall on my head like stones on the roof,
a crack on my tongue, smoke in my palms.
Divinity cleans up after the devil.
When I write my bible, heaven will flood the bathroom floor.
No comments:
Post a Comment