Why did I think she had eyes thecolor of feces and sweat dipping tainted hairs white as burning phosphorous? What is wrongwith me? Why could I not justsee brown and white? It’s as if my mind has to reenter the atmosphere before it can join otherhumans again. Not unlike astronauts,poets speak words with Neoprene-coated nylon.Their syllables irrigating the sandy […]
Tea House: Interviews, Commentary, Reviews, Poetry & Prose