Poetry

A Portrait of Living

A burglar steals your couch and your telephone but
it still rings. There is always a mysterious phone call,
“They are coming,” it warns.
No one ever comes! House party!

Three Poems

the Elkhorn mine collapsed
after a crew drilled too deep
into the earth—discovering
water. The mine filled fast
after, carrying off its workers.

Two Poems

brutality. Sunless parade                          of the poor. So today,
I do not question the Reaper      or its iron want. The metal giant
can try to save us            from ourselves. I cannot see
an end without total                                   destruction.

How to Tank in Overwatch 2

There is nowhere to run
except forward. Oh, to be a man
again and take up so much space.

Missing Crooked

For so long, I’ve scoured
thumbprints on maps, empty

corridors, boats in harbor, constellations
that refuse to navigate. Thick with shrapnel

and gutted like a shoe
without laces, I stumble, call for you