Slipping from View

perhaps it’s best we stop here, parting ways at the crossroads we stood too long beside. we know the adage: how gold never stays. surely, far greater loves than ours have died. we bear the gaunt trappings of yesteryear, ghostly figures shambling in plushy flesh, driven on by stark loneliness and fear. pitiful beings: the…

Brother Julius

tell me brother julius of nights spent in the open beneath quilted darkness damp heat in the wee hours lost and ignored in a street lamp solar system how you wandered deep into desolate suburban wastes resting affluence of noctilucent methane clouds hanging cold on the edge of night satin sprawled amidst dead heaven how…