untitled poem #51

marinate my beard

shoot me in my heart

slice my chest open

rob my shadow,


I thought on the back

of the bike

in the middle of the intersection

blinded by shining




and blue



i wonder if you taste

like kumquat tea?


put me in a talking wheelchair

equipped with intellectual


so i can figure out

what you’re thinking about


as an added bonus,

know more about black holes.

(believe me, you’d be thankful.)



Published by


Recently moved back to the States after living 16 months in Vietnam. I write to remove the thoughts trapped in the cobwebs of my psyche before the spider envelopes me whole.

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