Aging

It hurts. Twisted, gnarling, rooted pain that knows no age, no boundary it envelopes into me, into others, and I see it reach out with a radiated hand pain is so familiar. I have become desensitized to it. I only know it needs me and that my corporeal and incorporeal existence beckons to it, like …

Second Generation Air Pump

i. What domestic image are you scrutinizing this morning, Carlos Williams? What line break have you devised on your carriage, hastening from a measled simp to the hospice gent who attempted, more than once, to so rudely slide into your work through your breathtaking enjambments? ii. I am changing the tire this morning and I …