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Poems

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  • Imperial Crimson

    There is no way I can write ‘producing meanings’ as my job in the CV,

  • My Name in Sticks

    From the shallow sledding hill I gathered up

  • [The Porcupine Left Its Hovel]

    The porcupine left its hovel

  • Half of Life

    The land with yellow pears

  • Cotton Candy

    At first it gives like a sponge, elastically, and you think you’ll only make an

  • Thetis

    We see her through her element, not

  • Georges de la Tour! Georges de la Tour! | Metka | The Cross

    I see how you climb!

  • I’m a Witch!

    It is standard for women

  • 36.

    A woman was choked by a metal shackle

  • Fragments of The Sacrificial World

    Porpoises feed every morning in the shallows

  • Call & Response

    In this last

  • Aspect

    The spirit’s simulacra have obtained