~ Rant ~

I saw nineteen years in the past today all blue anchors and
stained-glass fractions all the
answers in my hands Now knowing what I know of time travel it is hard
stumbling over twisted steel
splashing through radiator fluid kicking aside discarded bouquets it is hard
living in this dying place

~ Shy ~

I caught this dance among the endless blues covetous of the
display despite the destruction of
love despite the smile of death knowing that it was less about blood and
desire and more about words and
silence and the unobtainable balance

By Gail Kelly

G. D. K. spends his days pounding bones and his nights sniffing sharpies, drinking acrylic, chewing on graphite, or drowning in words. His works are here and there on the web, and if you look hard even in print.