“The beast of the gulch is on the move. It hunts without reason. It kills without eating. Its prey is the sound of a beating heart. Within the shallows of the gulch dwells death.”
Book 9 of The Kingdom’s Disdain is available now!
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A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth. Special Effects Chest pain Is a constant A wall between myself and the body There is a chronology that I am separated from as I hover Above the flesh, noncommittal Like a prince who can’t make up his mind You’re falling into the water You’re stumbling
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A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth. Plastic Cup I’m on the verge of a New cosmos By the principle of trickle-down economics I’ve gathered memories, objects ridden with Nostalgia and dark matter In a plastic cup All the things you chose to forget Fermented and left to Revive
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A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth. My Desert A studied hand, breaks the corner of the stormfront Measured- and- my heart beats with the breath of the wind – Can you hold destiny in your pocket? Devise a central theme for the whole of the nation? Fuse your fingers to the trigger?
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A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth. Daydream There is a place behind the eyes Which fills all empty spaces With transgressions, animal input Plagued social ills A tablet of translation for things that might be and might be again There’s a heart that seeks to believe that the tall grass is full
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A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth. Things Come to Pass I suppose I deserve some contraction Meddling with old metals, locks and lockets Smearing my liquid thoughts like paint across your dashboard Sunlight to sun-dip (But it rises again so quickly, and the dark barely has time) To win you over to
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A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth. Postmodern Obtain the product of your waiting Fruit of the vine Kindling in the hands of nonbelievers Who could not foresee, for, if they foresaw, they would turned and be healed But history abhors a heel turn Even though it delights the audience So we rained
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A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth. Song of Rain A single path through a dry fountain, surrounded by dry grass There was a song on my lips A word on my tongue A gray vacancy in my eyes Held at bay by windless tides And in your hand I felt An arrhythmic
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A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth. Desert Hermit I bit the tail of the beast of burden Prescribed a sedative to keep him from falling into agony And there was no road ahead that I could use to follow But a trail of scattered locust skins -John the Baptizer The astrologers all
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A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth. Haunted Temple The eye is upon you While you go about your daily trade A pox, a curse, eye of newt and skin of toad And medication refills While he is, transfixed and transfigured into every sound that haunts Days of secret whispers in the pews
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A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth. Breathing Exit Simple thoughts Fly into my mind like they are Drawn to rotten meat When we exit this space what becomes of the cosmic symmetry? The cracked surface between mirror and air And can we begin to manifest An exile into being -All night I
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Prose from the journal of The Guardian Fog. After the Flood In keeping with the terms of our agreement, I arranged for there to be a little accident. I slid out of your recommendations, into the purgatory of the after, a quaking reminiscence of previous pain and punishment, until the gods no longer allowed my
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