an unwritten letter to a person

never there

could it be random

that splintered pavement squares

unravel manufactured gravel

can you feel it?

in any period

give me a color

and I will paint

a coffin

in time



Music was invented here

in this state of mind sitting

in a building’s existence,

or rather our means of listening.

Across the Delaware River

an 80 foot tall American flag

rests stuck on red brick

painted broken history.

The crumbling structures

on water’s both sides

associate anything;

warfare and European men.

A pale blue bridge still stands

and this amber beer still tastes

stale and my heart still palpitates.

I’m alive.


feet away from eternity

you, man holding cellular phone-computer,

man who smells like burnt tires thrown

into a swamp, you, man with fake African bracelets

made of wood around flaky pale skin, you, man soaked

in dirty rain, man with head down hand scratching red

neck bumps, man who stares into blank screen

with yellow knees bent and ruptured veins in arms,

you are the furthest you’ll ever be from life


Said and Done Before

salt smells and faded baseball cap

like whiskey by the water

loose blue t-shirt and cutoff jean shorts

and torn up boating shoes no socks

too much hair and skin for one human

no technology thank god

just a newspaper clipping all crumpled

and gray the lights at the 24 hour pharmacy

are intangible

walk with me thru the aisles because

everything is bright and melting cancer

love comes from out west

even though we’ve never been

from Los Angeles on out

all there is are signals signals signals

we’re trapped

in discarded images


Gradual Deterioration

the blackness breathes in then out-

assumptions about death


the heart is beating slow, but hard.

and shades for eyes keep shutting,


not out of a want to sleep,

but in some manic sort


of resistance to artificial light.

freezing regardless of the temperature.


remembering a childhood friend

stomping on a baby turtle.


the muscles let go and so,

thoughts flow straight no more.


howling wind mirrors speech internalized.

(if only it was eternalized)


bowels empty again,

with no command.


and they say animals were made

for our amusement.