The rocks he kicks with his feet Fall into place without any purpose. He steps into the sand and buries pebbles he finds. The pebbles and rocks mutter his name. Orwell. Socks filled with dirt, Shoes collecting memories. A little baby boy, Named by a mother and her love for Animal Farm. It was the... Continue Reading →
My childhood remembers you, I do not. Or atleast I try not to. I love the idea of physically scribing words overtop of images, now a days everything is typed on a computer. Penmanship is so intimate and I write with my eyes. Here's a new series of poetry written overtop of provocative images I ripped... Continue Reading →
"Daddy passed away on November 2nd. I thought I was all right, but this week I haven't gone to school. Next week will be better."
I'm whipping up something magical for you. l/r