O, viejas de negro! How you line the front pews at Catholic masses like pushers sitting on street curbs, rolling rosary beads— like pills of black-tar heroin— between jonesing fingers, craving your next fixes of salvation, visiones de Dios. Such beastly things behind those lifeless veils of pitch! Those guttural mumbles under respiraciones y lenguas,… Continue reading Coda-Switch

The Spaces In Between

How clever I think I am, pulling words from the air like rabbits from top hats to set them ablaze, across pages and ravage their pristine virginity. I bleed. I sweat. I shed tears upon reams so you can feel what I can no longer. Here I am ground down to the gristle, my passions… Continue reading The Spaces In Between