it’s not about you ( or me )

becoming food for fungi

demonarchy

the beginning is not the beginning

the end is not the end

banal , evil

trailer parks in heaven

shifting rainfall

indexes

spiritual connections with geese and other things

observe like i used to

early autumn morning air

ceremony, collision

hours burnt coffee

risers

days that mark the passing years

the lingering smell of slaughter in the city

material

living body, leaving soul

small dog

in a coat

in the arms of the

flip phone camera man