uncertain ladders

Image and poetry by this author

things climb on icons
what were we forbid to etch again?
robes hang from walls, with secrets, in confession, jarbles of heat and nothingness biscuit
aisles to walk, with flowers in the noses, and walls where people
marry behind mary
water splashes, coolly, something to do, with your fingers and cold meditation
power hides, with spiders and enchantment
hocus pocus and children’s knee burns
hocus pocus, and the rising and falling of rumor
hocus pocus, and…



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Fox Kerry

Fox Kerry

If you paint for me even one thing which is true, perhaps I’ll be tempted to consider two. I tell tales poetically, someone else needs to set them to music.