In September 2020, I lost someone to old age.
This collection is about him, for him, and in memory of him. I hope that it speaks something to the evolution and synthesis of fear, anxiety, apathy and grief.
Residue
I am a ghost at home
I haunt it from a different continent
Reality that consists that place
Exists across time and space
Lassitude
Since I went to your grave that day
I keep imagining things now
What happens six feet under
Maggots, decaying, and the like
Liberty
You were my first true loss
Not much else was my worry
In losing you however
I did not foresee Liberty
Sand
I sat until dawn in my pointless vigil
The one thing I could still do
Should I flip that hourglass over?
Or leave time dead like you?
