On:

a found poem, after Giannina Braschi Madmen fear no moon, fear no fire. Burns of flesh are poetry. Madmen’s wounds are poetry. Salt is for fish, salt is for death, the poem is not among the dead. Remember, but don’t write it. sleepwalker among cats, thief among dogs, man amongContinue Reading

On:

Who are these determined apes, who endurethe cries of cracked bones and vertigo,which precede the treetops?Treetops where these apes reach and graspand check their fingertips to see if maybethey’d grazed the halo.They don’t yet realize, yet still they reach—unapologetically— up toward the twinkle which precedes the dawn “Daniel J. Nickolas”Continue Reading

On:

We should fear the ocean. Something we know without being told. Enter extremity: A shifting massEasily knocking us to the sandWith such obviousUnrestrainablePower. I almost died in the ocean once But breath broke through The suffering void And aspiring skin Touched the shore again. Since that haunted eveningThe sea andContinue Reading

On:

Ornate cloud of sharp angle-rife tube and clamp scaffoldBlurs domeLike a JPEG-formatted digital photograph,Heavy compression reducing the natural colour gradations and surface detailsTo illegible posterized scriptNot even the Catalan architect Gaudi could read;Vertical standards like ribs of a corset to bind up the sides of the Capitol Dome,Reinforced horizontallyBy rightContinue Reading

On:

It sat precisely balanced atop a high concrete curb along the roadside, this perfect loaf of sliced white bread. How astonishing is that? Such an improbable, yet ordinary, place for such a commonplace thing as a loaf of bread.  But this was no ordinary, run-of-the-mill white bread. It was thatContinue Reading