The Killing Machine

The Our Father

Daddy Long-Legs Moves To The City

Desperation Show

the burning jar

nosferatu

american gothic

the presents of loss

ourselves forsaken

our killing machine

salamander pond

the presents of loss

---

The presents of loss, valid as hunger, are packages sent UPS on birthdays--wrapped in bright cellophane color but containing nothing. Unwrapping them makes the time pass too slowly--I slowly pass the time with head in hands in front of the window wishing I could turn the pavement into wine. Down the street someone's radio blares rap. It screeches oddly through the rabid laughter of the birds.

[ Crossing My Words | Scared by the Dark | Title Page ]