poetry

Apocalypse

Every moment Is an apocalypse of the self, A turning of our hopes and dreams to sand.   What we had built: nothing. What we had longed for: a puff of smoke.   In this way, Even our lives as a whole can be viewed As nothing more than a planting of seeds, A fertilization… Continue reading Apocalypse

poetry

The natural order

If there was ever a natural order, It is the part of you that knows To press a wound to stanch the blood, That knows to place cool cloth on the forehead Of the incapacitated, That knows.   Women have always been The knowers of this knowledge, Sacred protectors and keepers Of their children. Show… Continue reading The natural order