Protracted Fradubio and St. George: A
Dialogue
“when I forgot about trees, I
received
my disability; drowning,
I wept.”
“what you hold is a hoofprint
breathing.”
“I do not want to buy a gun. they are
Nebuchadnezzar’s
ego.”
“gravestones glister a baby-like
simulacrum.”
“mystery O,
clean the battalion of cheerless screens, pelf
PDF of chipped teeth.”
Hydrophobic
Like a pig out of water, pear wine squelched through cheesecloth is a vegetable love, uxorious summer eyes, the Aleian field of crusty butts, and box-store coloured rocks.
I Feel like a Cabbage
“I’ve got a life of my own,” I told grandpa.
“the
crow shat on my hand. the pandemic’s
opening
a cubicle
shop—Pandemic
and its Masks”
“you
never say anything real,” he
replied.
“say something true.”
thought
about Pilate, American
modernism;
“I don’t like it
here.
I don’t know what schizophrenia
means,
but
I
keep telling myself I have it.”
She Could’ve Spoken to Whales
“We
each have a keyhole inside our nasal cavity,” she responded. “Your whole
life
is leading up to that moment when the key goes
in.”
“That’s
a belief though,” I sniped. “Who do you know who has successfully
inserted
their predestined key into their
nose?”
She
became a round flotation device of a man—her innards full of helium
pitched
her voice, a piccolo. “The whales eat a monkey in a penis
machine.”
His first chapbook, A Strange Hospital, was published on Proper Tales Press. His chapbook, Gravitynipplemilkplanet Anthroposcenesters, was published on above/ground press. This along with the two Serif of Nottingham chapbooks (Birds are the birthmarks of flight and Throat Fixtures: The Almanack of Dazzle) are collaborations with Gary Barwin. He has a forthcoming mini chapbook on Blasted Tree Press.
His collaborative collection of poems written with Gary Barwin, A Cemetery for Holes, is available from Gordon Hill Press.
