• poetry

    blinK/d

    from higher frequencies borderless vibrations, away from THE third observer, who never judges whose bacK is turn’d towards an artificial trompe l’oeil, a taciturn gate-keeper, who, dress’d in rags, perches amid the pair…

  • prose

    the voice

    from a faint whisper grew a harden/d n hateful voice that crawl/d from the bacK of my head n squat/d at the forefront of my mind n there he has rest/d since the…