Tag Archives: Poetry

I’m dreaming about death

The room is on fire.

Mint green tiles

A man was standing at the top of a building

This is when the afternoon ends
/ And the petals savour the last sip of light

A “cadaver exquisito”, using phrases from Hollis Frampton’s “A Stipulation of Terms from Maternal Hopi”.

Trauma is a narcissistic being

Three poems for my mother.

Today’s session.