Fragile Freight

Her mouth flickered, sharp as razors

across the glass window

clouds rolled in in victory.

Snowy rooftops filtered past and

chimneys coughed a stormy blast.

Simple folk dwell within

golden shadows hide their sin.

The panic in the city lights

sweep her eyes at the fringe of night.

Red ribbons run through her pupils,

it’s alright – the moisture on her cheek

doesn’t mean she’s weak.

She feels dizzy in the moving cabin.

The conductor and she are alone,

staring out at the city’s bones.





Skell Town

Sack of bones

my hip


bruised and round

perfectly golden

emerged from its black hole.

My breast


like braille under my skin

secretly snow white

hidden under pink sheets.

My raw


streaked by waves

deep, red, rising

my sack of bones

fallen into your arms. mu

Do Not Wake the Glittery Bones

The road is steep ,

lined with tiny bones.

All glittery and cold.


If you look in your rearview mirror before the ascent,

the last ice shavings are welded

to the tallest pine tree.

Go slow, up the road.

The tiny bones are sleeping, but alive.

Whisper a lullaby with rubber tires.

Do not wake the glittery bones.

The road guides survivors who wait.

The road takes the blame.