milky way

slow syrup in my sternum sweetens the lost leaves’ silver session


my hand sways a rhyme in cursive air above the first bluet


trick of the recursive planet. Though, with his pet dodo on the run,


something other than the hook in your mouth? Hold the end of this


the red planet’s raspberry drupelets thank Vonnegut


a nest feathered with fingers sticky from pulling out your eyes


XXXXXXX, whose job curses us. In sister cities of emerging-market stars,