Homage to a Girl Named Agata
Vibrating at the frequency of gold -the Tabernacle where flesh is turned into bread and
Wreaking Dies Irae
Wreaking days of wrath as the world reeks of eyes spent on averting
Looming
What’s crouching invisible on the horizon -a different density – a sphynx
Will we forgive the indiscretions of the body
Will we forgive the indiscretions of the body Its rejection of stillness The granting of
AUGUST DOLDRUMS
Going out with a whimper Paralyzed by the basilisk ‘s stare As the earth revolves
ATOMIC AUGUST
Atomic August, canicular and leonine spraying a dread of scorching heat and unpunished low- pressure
baby white bison, hiding
away from park rangers and the tourist lens where the thicket grows
SELF-PORTRAIT IN A PETRI DISH
Maybe it’s true, as they say, That my totem animal is the amoeba
Anecdotal Dog Days
What happens to the dread The omens and premonitions Weighing on your chest As
Revelation Horizon
The gravity of the situation Did not allow any light to escape The deep hole
