Philadelphia's Last Line of Defense Against Poetic & Journalistic Torpor
We remembered to put water in the vase while you were away & there are days when we notice you havent asked of us. Only falling back into it for long enough. Leave us alone soundboard sentiments. The real, the performance, and not so much. We are striking in the captivity of our bodies. They Read More …
Blood on the leaves and on the root There was not room for consent with sting already in our bones We are among the fog, above the sharks under the bridge. The water that gets stuck up your nose, & comforts the dust of bones that found liberation in the ocean. Exhausted by our own Read More …