our Father I do love to walk
down to the shore at dawn
while the ground is cold
and there sprinkle my cells
to smashed ocean radios
I dream that I was born
with no tongue and that
I can neither ask nor
answer nor understand
questions about where
I come from that the waves
are my clapping sisters
so many dark swallowed
ships my deleted thoughts
cannon and coin pulp
my new body and that any
one of a million canyons
trembling with the psalms
of stones is my easily
remembered mother who
easily remembers me

–By ​Nathan Parker


we are born

cradling our knees


like a guitarist plucking strings

holding onto the spark

exposed torsos

i wont kneel with my back to God

try to recount His words

im bound from heavens doors

by these blankets

while i lay and pray

the devil dances on this mattress

i fetally rock

between heaven and hell

when sleep swoops in

eyes faded to black, nothing phases me

thoughts fall

like dominoes

simmering hot coals extinguished

dark ash my witness


morning peeks

and i know

holy war’s peace

is somewhere between

death and defeat