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June 2015
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September 2015

July 2015

a possible hostage situation

you think you know it you thought it would be like this

that bird that one bird and the jet jetting free

but bound to its burning rush its rush to burn up there

not so suddenly one is gone for good we say to the satellite

punish me for not knowing which candle goes where where

me is any of us in a church not our choosing punish us

in discrete waves anyway you looking back me looking up

where you is a range of common judgment me at last a muddle

of things not things but history handling everything until

the room is ready not ready but finished for the day to dry