(tweeted 4.2.2014)

Naked treetops scratch the sky:
brown brush against a blue and
white backcloth, reaching.

(tweeted 4.1.2014)

This is your rite
not prom or graduation
not ceremonies of sect.
This parking-lot shuffle,
a test, and your own set of keys.

We strangers walk in casual rhythms
familiar ground beneath our feet.
I hear a couple speak a prelude
and pass a smile wondering if they know.

(tweeted 3.27.14)

Teeth bite and each gear’s turn
sets hands to motion,
ticking off the hours of the day.

(Tweeted 3.25.14)

Empty soldier, empty gun
Dragged through the aftermath of battle
Towards a white rose in the distance
Fading…

(tweeted 3.10.2014)

No Twisted Oliver
I stole into camp
feigning fealty
corrupting thieves.

(tweeted 3.6.2014)

Through rows of facing backstrips
My fingers trace monuments
rigid and spine’d,
touching the untouchable
I am haunted and moved.

(tweeted 3.5.2014)

Green skin on a cold stone greying;
chameleon contact
blend and belong.