Category: Letters

 To the Jagged Edged Woman

To the person who arrives with the sun in her eyes that we are the universe is no surprise. There is loneliness in eloquence. But even that over simplifies the things that they have kept lost inside the vortex between here and the edge of last night’s liquor. You know this don’t you? Someone told you about this on a…

For the madman at Kilifi  

And when they ask you why you sit in the middle of all the madness bleeding into your laptop you will smile. You will smile that smile that echoes histories of lost poets, searching for answers in questions that have been asked since the beginning. Many words, but not something that they know will happen, the apparent becomes a pattern…