Hour Seven Tethered to breath a rise and fall of chest- a lift of torso and a spirit, or what is left. Triggering the vagus a nerve once shaking as it’s coiled in suspended animation until the breath’s release, and to which pulse can now…

Hour Six A fish out of water scooped out of the expanse with a net of lies and plunged within a crystalline bowl. Flitting to the surface wherein lies the tease of sustenance and breath held in stagnancy. Feeble attempts to avoid the anglerfish and…

Hour Five Memories tucked into my breast pocket left and close to my heart. They flutter like eyelids just waking from slumber- fractured images play upon the screen of thought a tribute to remembrance to lives previously lived during my years on the back roads….

Hour 6 9/2/2023   “Solitary…”   Seems a commonality shared within our understanding and even the acceptance of the word “solitary” for what it is.  But is it “shared” or is it just that we each have our own unique ‘bars’ behind our eyes?  …

I had a dream of A’Tuin The great turtle flying through space I peered over the edge and over again, The underside of the disc Expecting desolation A smooth platform to ease the labors Of four colossal elephants spinning Our great disc Instead it was…

Hour Four Outlining plans with graphite tracing the intent- gradients of charcoal delineate from our preconceived form an insult to our potential. Our attempts to take over and mold over the wire mesh construction- half-hearted clay structure unassuming to the crack from the heat of…

Hour Three 1:23 Layers droop precariously from form like draperies obscuring the world from the frame I had held like photograph- with peeling laminate ironed over like wax paper leaves and never comes back. The covers fall from mattresses skirting the hardwood floors methylene chloride…

Hour 5 9/2/2023   “Learning How To Be Ashamed…”   Shame isn’t a naturally happening trait.  No one is born with it It takes learning and practice and living and …well, I guess it’s a gift that keeps on giving – ya know?   I remember…

Hour 4 9/2/2023   “What Makes Us?…”   “Momma!” “Look!” pretty, pretty… “pretty…” And the lil fingers grasp and pull, grasp and pull… legs RUN to other visions of pretty, pretty… lil fingers, stained with green, stained with smiles stained with pretty, pretties… lil hands…

Hour Two Rays of sunshine pierce through the fabric of hope like hot daggers searing cauterizing the wounds of winter’s blush melting the ventricles of a heart’s cold season when the chamber doors had closed like an iron fist. A heart that beats with filagree…