No. 10

August 22, 2016

An emanation

Of white-hot sparks on the sea:

The moon’s treadless path.


Song of the Ephemeral

August 19, 2016

Over the verdant hillock,

starry with daffodils:

empty cerulean skies

if not for a cloud,

Northerly lining aglow–



The brush caught fire too

beneath the sinking daylight

as it grew red-hot,

Heavens and Earth both consumed.


Indeed, that burning edge still flickers

while all the world around me withers.


June 29, 2016

This is the same harsh angle of the sun,
this is the same so deadly humid heat
I felt that week your ending had begun,
reflecting from the glass along the street,
the shattered bits of accidents or trash,
the careless cost of greed obsessed with speed,
the same damned world that made your system crash
and sprout that cancer like a roadside weed.
I walked those mornings to the hospital,
eyes downcast, sweating, breathing in the fumes
of fast Columbus traffic, senses dull,
or so I thought, but now this heat exhumes
the body of that grief. I saw, I heard,
and I remember, Mother. Every word.

 –Thomas Kinder
(found through this article; otherwise can’t find anything else by the poet:

Perpetual Motion

June 23, 2016

My eyes are always fixed
ahead of me

Running my whole life,
late for work,
needing to be somewhere else.

For once I look up–
above me,
buildings rushing past the sky.

A woman is paused
on the balcony,
clinging to the handrails

As the Earth is spinning
in the still, eternal sky.


Within my lifetime,
Thousands of reincarnations.

I live in cycles
As waves pulled maddeningly
Towards the shore, crashing
In on themselves

I hate myself
From a standpoint of self-knowledge

That doesn’t yet quite


Coming up

June 2, 2016

My mind returns to itself
As it dissolves

Just like a light unbroken
By a prism

I tried to compose myself,
A fractured psyche of many parts
Now disarranged
As self shades into itself.

The Uncertain Hour

May 27, 2016

The burning twilight
Blunted by the weight of heaven,
Condensed — a curtain

Now turned sepia
Dragging itself across the globe;
Fate so indistinct.

The angel of death
Hangs around these streets corners,
A poisonous gas.

Under a sun-dial
I haven’t seen its visage,
Features indistinct.



May 25, 2016

A flock of birds
alighting a wire,
watching the scene.

Tunnel vision:
iterated actions
are internalized.

At this moment,
my chosen ends
cast me among you
incentivized pedestrians
doing as one does,
following the sidewalk.

In my suit jacket
I fancy myself a crow
transcending the streets.

But as long as this brain
strides on two legs,
I’ll take the same crosswalk
across Jingmao 2nd,
turning left on Nangang.

hailing a taxi
to take me away
and secure solitude.

Distanced by glass and steel
from the comings and goings
of a restless world.

Rhythmic lamplight
projected like film
into the dark recesses
of this inner space.

Passing from place to place,
unceasing thought
traverses the highways.
This city itself is my mind.

Memories replayed,
I see the skyline, emerged
from the organic.

A vesicle
that peers from a distance
into the interiors
of darkened high rises,

pulsating transit carries me
back to my neighborhood,
maintaining homeostasis–

where I’ll get noodles,
walk five flights,
and lie on the back porch
next to the open window

dreaming of headlights
trailing the boulevards,
neighborhoods blossoming,
veins extending,
curbs encrusting–

dreaming of the decades,
countless decades,
we will metastasize.

The River

May 20, 2016

I have found my path,
Springing from the earth
In accordance with my
Innermost necessity.

Truly have I felt
Carving myself a place–
Being nothing but motion

Indeed, I shape things,
Fitting them to me.
Still, I am diverted:
I, the river of willing.

Continuation of Life

May 18, 2016

I spat on a shriveling worm

to lubricate it;

convulsing, it dove into

a flower-bed.