You fall
against the same
broken trip.
Shards
of glass-eyed
dreams
can't get you even.
Hard memories sting
still scarred
by violent light.
And what night wind
blows deep inside
your soul?
What dark vibration?
At once a voice
about nothing.
At once a fruited breath
that swells into sweet song
and drowns upon itself.
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 He crept before he walked.
He worked until he cracked.
He wept before he croaked.
(Poems) 
Whenas in silks my Julia goes
Then, then methinks how sweetly flows
That liquefaction of her clothes
Next, when I cast mine eyes and see
That brave vibration each way free
Oh, how that glittering taketh me.
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