5 1/2" x 6 1/2"
19 pgs


  • What goes away on its own
    Can come back on its own
    Hollowed out and quiet tense
    I conjugate privacy and sadness
    The myth of language
    And a second away from
    Being an angel and a microphone
    Represent what but nothing
    I can do to throw the tow rope
    The tall winter light solid crying
    Solid singing in the modular
    Bric a brac

    And now and again it does seem
    Important to be saying, to have said,
    Participating as no, temperate and right
    You can’t just get any kind of sand
    Nowheres portfolio the saint van
    As piece I deal for university
    Exuberance ask turn it all map
    Come to a heartbreak the rafters
    Could hail, rings on the dresser clock
    And together count 50
    But it was for such a big one