White Noise
A black church burns down. Justice isn’t a comfortable coffee conversation; it’s standing near enough to the heat to smell your own hair being singed.
Category: Poetry
Rain: A Therapeutic Memoir
I ache to return to those days, but I can’t. Time only moves in one direction and I’m caught in her cruel current.
Beauty & The Mad March of Time
The natural progression of all things toward death is what makes them beautiful.
Reflections on a Summer Fling
I was afraid. That’s what good kisses do; they put a little bit of fear inside of you.
A Mad Hope
I’ve come to realize my life is a collection of me feeling woozy in various locations…
Zoom Out
I have never thought as long about any blog post as I have about this one…
A Poetic Reflection on Pornography
The bedroom shrine and the bathroom liturgy…
December 27, 2016
My blog posts as of late have become far too formulaic. But tonight, I’m creating a new formula. It’s a free-form formula, like that category of math that uses letters instead of numbers.
A Millennial Hymn
Because I’ve learned that people come and go—or maybe I’m the one who’s leaving….
Dear Friend, Volume 2
You said your romantic fire is being doused by the liquid of distance. I think the liquid of distance can be flammable…
