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‘This had happened once before, / when my life first split / into comfort and pain.’

Two Poems

‘The me that was then / follows, watching from the dark / theatre of my skull.’

‘his balance / between person and / abstraction’s so stirring I want no other token for anything can happen’

‘A glowing purse / that unlatches / with a snap’

‘oh dirty feet blood-clotter / oh grease monkey clod-hopper / oh cloud-devourer spit’

‘It is not informational, it is / not a blameshift, it is not / all-lives-matter top down and sideways blank.’