Because nothing else can contain it: let the paint peel from the elementary school and the cicadas multiply then divide, their bodies
browsing archive: featuredwriting2
Without knowing, we go looking for something not there. Mushroom hunting in the boroughs under the trees, in leaf & lichen dropped
the roadkill strung on the main drag double as royal flush when the vultures join it becomes a catholic mass the frogs are
Fog, cold-pressed, comes across the fields. This early, the fog spreads itself thick, sloping into the shape of a fear without antecedent.
—for Gray St. Germain Gideon, 1984-2014 It’s these ancestral mountains, massive as grief, that dominate, sharp, angular, .............fragments .........................jutting out like fingers