Poetry
Chasing Rabbits

I lay still, a toppled clay golem,
You sleep deep and animated
against 
my joyless insomnia.

Dreaming of chasing rabbits, maybe,
Or fleeing from plasticine demons
Through a darkened infirmary —

Though in my ego-mystical musings,
I could believe I put these tremors in you
This brooding traversed two skins, osmotic.
My frustration becomes your twisted wrist,
My worry becomes your bruxing,
I am fearful and so you shiver. 

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Poetry

Liar’s Dice

We adopted obscure philosophies
To justify a simple existence —
”I know it’s all been said before … ”

Faces are numbered and ranked.
I fear the question looming
Behind every pair of eyes;

A question of honesty or self –
– collusion, of feeling, meaning,
Characters peeling in time

And so I lift a heavy cup,
Pull down my cap and visor,
Leave and re-enter the room.

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Poetry
Language Has Revealed Itself
I hold my eyelids apart,
Exposing a widened eye
To the tip of a playful flame.

Language has revealed itself to me
To be as ambition is to the lover,
As love is to the young and untested.

It will serve me, It will betray me,
A sweet, caustic substance, multiplying
Beyond the ambits of control.

It will subvert my power
With a force like a revolution
Or a curious child.
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