A poem should be odd as a small cast-iron platypus.

Just because a thing can't be done doesn't mean it can't be did. We all look into mirrors and see phantoms. Our error is our Eros. Why is there something instead of nothing? The answer is reckless and surreal.

Here is a semi-transparent pebble I picked up on the way to my EKG. Probably worthless but it is my heart so take it.

Go down any road far enough and you'll come to a slaughterhouse, but keep going and you'll reach the sea.

You are made of bent coat hangers, honey, gravel, epoxy and handstands. I am made of lying on the floor, the same song on repeat.

I was satisfied with haiku until I met you, but now I want a Russian novel, a 50-page description of you sleeping.

A poem should be odd as a small cast-iron platypus.