Castle Rabbit


You built a wooden castle

Where pool fell into pool

And the trees clambered into sanctuaries

Where no one could stay for long

I caught a black rabbit in those halls

A baby, nothing more

Than the length of my palm and delicate

Breaths through trembling fur

It had been on the doorstep

Of your haunt of wild cats

Of the hall of hawks and owls

Of your ego left ajar

And when I lost hold I did not wonder

Any longer how to leave

I made doors of your wooden castle

Until the trees lifted me free

Sleepless


Dark the curtains when dark the night

‘Gainst shards of fire from moonside skies

Fear turning upon the flick of a light

The whisper of water

A child’s cries

Parallel Outlet: 11


Related image

Sleep slower, and maybe you’ll notice curious things. Be wary of using words like “indefinitely” – this comes with a poem:

Baby, I’ll crawl to you

across the vast mirage of time and space

should misfortune befall time itself

or the laws of physics break

It has been nearly a year since I first read the post “sleep slowly”, and the four lines of that poem still come back to me. Continue reading “Parallel Outlet: 11”

Hotel Last Century


The oddest numbers

leave a pitfall’s exit space

a glass-rimmed hall of gondolas

where you float the other way

Gunshots skitter tiles

but I memorize your face

and from this stir of madness, darling

with you, I will escape