The Super Blood Moon

A star tears
its way through

the terraplane
screaming its purple

and orange wound
into the flesh of Orion.

The stone dogs
of the prairie stand

like chess pieces
on the infinite face

of the high plains.
An unidentified hawk

spirals into the raven-strata.
Beneath the poplar's eye,

the stag-mass is jutting.
When the moon purges

into the valley,
and the sagebrush

howls

in the berserk
armored wind,

the hunter is the one
with his face torn to sky.

The Cave of Fabric: A Manifesto of Geological Consciousness and Animal ...

Zone of Mouth

When I was
a boy I went to Mammoth

Cave.

I cannot write
the story.

In order to sing this song
I have to go

astral,

      I have to return to stone.

September

I can feel
the hen of the woods

aching beneath
the oaks back home.

*
It's good
to know you miss me.

Space Cat

The space cat is here.
The spaces between the cat.

I catnot write anymore, so

a few line
                     breaks

and I'm space.