For GloPoWriMo 13

Excerpt from “What passes for summer”:

a spool of fishing wire, tied to a hook, baited with a cube
of fish, dangles over a pier, brightness tickles along its edge

For GloPoWriMo 12

Excerpt from “Lamplight”:

though we both write, you confess
you never slept and I prayed you would
those nights when fifty-five knocked, I hummed
my sympathy, your skin was porcelain, almost

For GloPoWriMo 10

Excerpt from “Overspill”:

you might think this does not bode well, randomness will be an excuse, not his skin, not even his profession will defend him, the bodies of patients he protects, or did, concussion’s embodiment, returning confused, glasses askew, bodily removed,

For GloPoWriMo 9

Excerpt from “Arrondissements”:

I forget the word for pepper, poivre, s’il vous plaît, sudden and unforeseen, but le chef knows what I mean eventually and adds it to my crêpe, all travel resulting in pacing the streets of multiple photogeneity, unexpectedly, in all the ways other cities are photogenic,