the river falls
I have nothing for today
metaphors write themselves
tomorrow will research itself
Category Archives: Poetry Month 2023
Day 99, 2023
driftwood enough
to crucify a thousand christs
mud to bury them three times over
me
what remains
Day 97, 2023
it’s day after a night shift, that twilight
under a full sun / after the last round of storms
there are rumors the river
is returning to its bed / rumors
of visitations // as the city washes itself away
driftwood pushed back into the mud
onto downriver currents through the locks
in time for the clockwatchers’ parade