"The Year of the Smiling Music"

The morning is a thrum
black fistulas pursue:
O storytellers, come
and tell us something true.

All the thrills of noise,
and warfare too.
This rapture never cloys
like wretched limits do.

The rose tattoo
of a hurled bomb.
O storytellers, come
and tell us something true.


The Innocence Project.


"It was my hope to prove that cephalopods of a freshwater variety had once claimed the area as their uncontested domain."