I stood in the back
A phantom overwhelmed by
Your sovereign light
I stood in the back
A phantom overwhelmed by
Your sovereign light
Possess
Shadows of being,
These poems, which have come now
To possess my heart
Confession
When held, confessions
Impel the transgressor
To repeat their crimes
Lightning
Thunder is a threat
Which in passing leaves no mark
On the audience
–
I’ll take the lightning,
For it employs the heat
Essential to burn
Rival
Conflict begets art
All writer’s create within
Themselves a rival
Weeds
Poems are like weeds
Tenacious vessels that breed
In spite of hardship