I don't remember squeezing the trigger, though I never forgot the smell of smoke. The wild dog's eyes ruined between rage and confusion. How I waited too long to shoot, and the beast an eyelash short of my throat when the bullet pierced its chest. I don't remember Adam handing me the misericord but the […]
Cumulative Realities
Posted inARTS & SOUL
Burial Clothes
Posted inARTS & SOUL
Until Today
Posted inARTS & SOUL
Trans American Sonnet #9
Posted inARTS & SOUL
poem about policing
Posted inARTS & SOUL
