NYKOLIA He wrote of the war The way that A poet’s daughter Writes of suicide ‘The shells are still falling As I’m cooking breakfast.’ He posted ‘These are the last

Extract From A Plane Crash Survivor’s Diary We must have crashed into a forest. It’s a lovely place if you don’t pay attention to the clothes hanging from the smashed

In Defense Of The Boy Who Made Heartbreak Hurt Like A Hangover You were a dive bar. Shot of gin I told the bartender to keep pouring You tasted like

aphelion & the summer road trip we were never took staring up through the windshield aphelion never looked so close the sky an eruption of blue clear and inviting where

Ode on the Venice Skate Park after John Keats From empty pools thou com’st, thy ancestors     A labor of inventive, idle boyz. Thou shirtless theatre of practiced gestures,     Bizarre creature