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No one can stop The Blood. No one can know whether The Blood is good or bad. The Blood wears a long red cape, so long it is like a power line snapped and hanging down to the ground. What is the process of The Blood? To start, The BloodContinue Reading

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Ⅰ There’re wheels of light rolling in the skyThere’re no wheels of light rolling in the sky Eyes full of patientsSuperheroesEntrances everywhereNo exit Ⅱ Lying alone in bedComplete the ceremony of a sufferingSuperheroThis accidental solemnityOnly poetry can witnessArise of this era—Insert the gear into the broken backboneImplant chips into theContinue Reading

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There are few superheroes as ancient as The Man Made of Stone, for he has seen every shade the villains of evil can make bubble and boil from the depthless undying center of earth, from which all evil springs. It burns at 9,392° Fahrenheit, the earth’s core. It is fromContinue Reading

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Domonique sat looking at her tablet. There was so much crime she couldn’t stop all of it, but she would try for damn sure with Uncle Vic’s help. Picking up her gym bag, she pulled out her uniform and began to dress. It was nearly 10 PM. She worked overtimeContinue Reading

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I wish I was Vin DieselThe only bone I ever broke was a fucking toothVin diesel drove a car out of one skyscraper into anotherI’m so thin, my own family says I’ll float away in the windI bet Vin has never questioned how much of a man he is ToContinue Reading

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The new parents declined every social invitation two weeks before traveling and shopped for groceries only late at night. When it was time, they took the train at off-hours to a hotel with stringent safety protocols, and made sure their international airline had excellent air purification procedures. They were careful,Continue Reading

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“Look what you have done, Daddy. Those people in the little houses can stay in their homes. My friend, Bill, lives there. He is the neatest guy. Can we go see him sometime?” “We have to go to the hospital for your treatment today, Johnny. Maybe.” “Maybe what? They saidContinue Reading

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In part, our cellar is a well.When the ground swells, pregnant with ocean brineand rain, the water rises: murky and dustclotted,filtered through groundfloor pores. In part, I remembermy mother downstairs in the slow, slow, steady tide, I remember herwildness, brave and rockjawed in the face of her house, her house’sbetrayal.Continue Reading

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My mother worries onebone in her body like the windwarps a grain field. It is the glowingmetal rod in her left shin — the poetry dowsing rod. At night she sleeps stilland the rod points up to her blood-pumping heart, twice out, years longto work, still — and glows blueContinue Reading