Bullet train underwater. AI generated. July 3, 2022.
Elmohr Iris. Iris tulips daffodils. 1945. Cooley’s Gardens. Silverton, Oregon. Catalog cover detail. Processed.
The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here.
O gnat tango in the hot, ochered light
In the end a yellow cloud. Nemfrog. 2020.
I lost my head, turned to stone and did I mention the blizzard? Nemfrog. 2020.
heaven’s a boy who wants me to crawl through his mother’s midnight-window
riveted to the secret of birds caught up inside his fist
Second Position. Nemfrog Films. 2019.
My wife tells me she hears a beetle Scurrying across the kitchen floor.
there is a sky / to be pulled down / into our bowls / there is a sweetness for us / to push our faces into
the stir cracks and crazes their enamel
I grasped your arm and backed up. You said: “This is what I look like now.”
The bars are like a frame: you want in as much as I have always wanted out. poem excerpt, rebecca morgan frank source image
