By Some Instinctive Choreography
A man I loved
poetry
the creek
This muddy snake,
Ara the Altar
My fiancee bent remarkably in a sudden garden
Tucana the Toucan
Housewives look out windows
Cepheus the King
The two of us played chess every evening
Musca the Fly
Flies, on the sill, out of breath.
smash the window
in this empty LRT station
gate 34
I don't need to tell you
Death Apples
She talks to herself in dialect,
untitled
Worse things could happen
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Current Issue: No. 301
