Link Rot
Travel through a windshield knowing / that ever since jackpot notifications creepered the digital sun- / dial, many are saying this: Take me there: Giddy up: / Giddy up or else.
#31 Poetry
On whether I subscribe to my name
s gifts me wings: I’m an egret / wheeling above the wet reflective estuary, / altricial, exhilarant as estrogen, / and high on the boldness of yes.
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βabel
You pushed your finger through the peel: / flesh soft and wet as the inside of a cheek. / The immigrant’s fruit, half
/ and half again.
Celluloid Dreams
like a lost passenger drifts towards an empty seat in a train carriage here we fall in love in a train carriage or at a cousin’s wedding because it’s meant to be because we are the exception
A Good Life in the Pluriverse
Without your skull’s grip over my brain and under my skin… / Pluriversal coexistence… / Fuck ya gender, just be a cunt!
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