Comments about Poet Dragon
I will the furor into the white spaces crowding closely on the page,
keeping their contrast only because the words need to speak.
I dream of death and hope the page will hold it all-
all the dreams, turned larcenous like nightmares...
Except there seem to be no happy thoughts to bring them darkness...so they are bland.
I watch the matter of my makeup bursting into fractal inconsistencies; E=MC2 and the world burns in a flash leaving behind the torrent of my withered, twisted hopes...fle