Poems from Kyrie B
when did my shadow
slip
under my fingernails
slither
through my pores
slide
into my bloodstream?
can i vomit
it onto bathroom
walls? slice...
I told him I hope to be a poet.
He said he hopes,
someday,
to scale a mountain,
to stand at the summit
with ice and empty air burning
his...
The blind man with his white cane
stops on a deserted street corner
next to the post office.
I try to imagine: a life of darkness,
a...