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The
Killing Machine
The
Our Father
Daddy
Long-Legs
Moves ToThe City
Desperation
Show
the
burning jar
nosferatu
american
gothic
the
presents of loss
ourselves
forsaken
our
killing machine
salamander
pond
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The Our Father
our father carried
silence like a spiked baseball bat and pierced flesh bone in an
instant--his disenchantment victim children lay prone roadkill in
fear awaiting our father brought hate memory cold snow wind freezing
in august heat when he'd enter the house and we'd run, hide from
our father who preached heaven but gave us hell to live in as a
sacrament from his god's body--a hitting stick beat from the sarcastic
smile of the only almighty jesus we knew--our father
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