words of a people aligned in their perfect order
I wish the birds would sing
in the middle of the night
in winter,
though the windows are never open.
I wish the birds would sing in winter
though I stoop to pet a plant
inadvertently knocking over a light fixture.
I wish the birds would sing
in the middle of the night,
lights low, the party over
and missing every painting I’ve ever sold.
I wish the birds would sing
in the middle of the night
in winter,
though purple flowers want their bloom
– Hoc Scripsi
my breath stinks my armpits smell my stomach aches I am not the man I thought I was better to be dead then have to spend a lifetime dying. but I’d be awkward as anyone else in anyother life so there is only this and with all, it perseveres. I cannot wash the stain of maleness off my clothes I am not the man I ought to have been only recently realizing that I have to obliterate all that should not be known or read, less it be known and read. and still, my breath stinks, my armpits smell. my stomach aches. - Hoc Scripsi
the platitudes of willful resemblance 