canvas on a warping frame
I didn’t know oil could crack. But new fissures open in sunflowers, gladiolas, the black and grey of the background. …
Tag: Rebecca Kerr
Someday on the platform to Pulaski
The twinkle lights from 2014 still wither in the trees. They decay like creepers: red, blue, yellow, green. You must …
poem for a woodshop
one more for the taste of sawdust on your neck and two paint cans cracking open in the corner …
And we are human
we will step down when you have lain aside your armored vests and shown us you bleed too we will …
Dearest Dirt
Dear dirt, It’s been a while since we sat together. Once upon a time I would have stuffed a few …