Hi, I write things. Some of them are good. I wrote at least one of them with you in mind. Try and find it. If I did my job right, it should not be hard.

Whoever you are, know that you are not alone and we are in this together until we're not. Then, it doesn't matter anymore. The universe goes on and us along with it.

You are suffering in your own special way and for that I am sorry. Being human is a pretty tough gig when reality tends to shatter our worldview on the regular. Here's hoping that my words reflect some fractured piece and make the whole puzzle a little more put together.

Consent to Let Go

I am aware of the risks,
radically bound to a shared ethos,
tapping into a collective consciousness,
as sane as can be in these torturous times,
with only a rather loose definition
of my own personal safety,
as I enthusiastically consent
to let go.

I summon the divine history
of humans who use pain as spark,
pleasure as tinder,
soul and spirit as wood,
and I enthusiastically consent
to be filled.

Share with me your burdens
and load them upon my back.
I will not break
for I am your elephant,
strong and leathered,
as I enthusiastically consent
to remember.

I Break

A glacier splits piece by piece,
into minute traces of bygone eras,
as eons of ever azure splinter
and release long suspended gasses.

A glacier diminishes bit by bit,
with melts too pure to be tears,
as the skies and winds of change
suffocate with pent up energy.

A glacier falls part by part.
Shards sinking down, inch by inch,
Torn asunder into sinking sheets,
Swallowed by turbulent sea.


The time has come for me to ramble.
Making every step a sort of gamble.
Crossing paths and making ways,
Cutting ties and sinking quays.

No homefires burn for my kind
Those who leave our hearths behind.
Forever hungry for what we seek
Swimming strong and stilling weak.

I evade an existential unease
With bowed heaed and bending knees.
But not to country, land or time.
I pledge instead to new ardors climbed

Trading stability for tranqulity
We shed our pasts like shed motility
We resist our tap roots sinking down
We find new nutrients on foreign ground.

Since I am drawn to die alone,
give me a death of unreknown.
No one please remember my name,
Someone else can take the blame.


August harvests of grain and gain,
Bountiful plains of slain and lain,
Country meadows tilled till twain,
Dying ideals crossing Oak and Main,
slowly we forget from where we came.


I love golden showers
and I have a vested interest
in seeing the kink normalized.
So, I will write a reflexive ode to it
and sing its praises.

Zeus started it.
He used golden showers
to impregnate
a buried woman.

Think about that.
Think about how that’s stood the test of time.
Then, think of that heavenly ambrosia,
that stuff of legends,
gunneling down your partner -
painting their marbled torso,
etching abs and curves,
sliding downward with
a pungent warmth.

Think about what it is like
to kneel at the feet
of your god or goddess
and receive.

Zeus started it.
Golden showers,
Preserved in folk tales
of the people who
perfected the orgy
and were idolized by Germans.