My long-awaited (you know, by me) chapbook is available to order from Dancing Girl Press now! Give them your money. They rule beyond belief.
Tastes like hot pink — the clink of jade in oil can.
What I’m seeing when I’m not seeing good: anaconda
seaweed, slurping up the U-boats.
Assassin beach — uneven tans. Black on sticky cream.
Goes like this: they cat-slink off the dock, all leg, into my leg,
crawling ricey bullets up the calf. How can you not feel that?
The chunkiness — must be a spoon — military issue — to stir
a clot. Pour it over toast back on the boat, with friends. They
made the jade go pile itself — I swear it — into strawberry milk.
1. I’m still here.
2. I fully intend to start updating this thing again.
3. I say that about a lot of things.
4. But then I just watch 28 back-to-back episodes of Hotel Impossible.
5. I made another record and you can pre-order it here.
6. Here’s an outtake from the photos for said record because Tumblr:
7. I’m working on a full-length poetry collection.
8. I’m leaving for Spain in a couple weeks.
9. I mean, have you seen Hotel Impossible? Anthony Melchiorri is a boss.