The Blind Pig

i don’t know what happens here at the arm of the great barn door the moment the day breaks through itself & the night capsizes between two watery thighs if the earth was made of salt we’d all be starving little belly full of hay sun breeze & a giant mud stage with a tambourine [...]

Lim-bo

This post is a creative exercise. A stream-of-consciousness style free-write, which I like to think of as “coaxing.” A means of getting myself in a “poetic” state of mind—of generating ideas, metaphor, and rhythm. I normally draw only a handful of useful images or concepts from this kind of exercise, but something charmed me about [...]