submerged manifesto:

i mourn that
i am no longer part of
        the innocence of children
i have offending hairs
blaming my skin
and imprints
from typewritten
verbs,
pasts
attached like briars
to my clothes
the waterline
of floods
in my frame
the cracks of heat
shaping my topography


drowned portfolio:

i've erased a thousand
hard drives
with my sins;
in pursuit of white n  o  i  s  e ,
cleansed my palette
with alcohols
and woken
with breath and blood
scraping off the
morning's fresh
paint
i've died to truth
to collect on
my policy of
                 happiness,
turned white cotton shirts
into vermicompost
to grow mushrooms
and tripping in my
self-esteem, crashed
at endlessness

gasp-prayer:

the shape of words can become more beautiful
than their understanding
when consigned to the image
writing itself becomes
a hand folded, in the service of a stream