i really dig bruce springsteen.
i enjoy tall socks, but not too tall. not above my knees.
this is six years of work: i drew pictures then took photographs then wrote words and here is a very small amount of the total.


untitled prose i miss brick floors and wooden doors. i miss grass and failed daisy chains. fences painted and fences mended. fences hopped, fences sat upon. i can remember wheelbarrows and so much mud. brooms intended for sweeping. bins of grain and boxes of supplements, each with its own delicious smell. molasses as a treat for both horse tongue and human nose. a tack room hidden behind a heavy sliding door. smooth saddles, aged to perfection. bridles, soft and malleable in their years of use. bottles of conditioner and tins of oil. soft and stiff brushes, curry combs and hoof picks, stuffed in a grooming tote. i recall wraps and bandages well-worn. i seeuntitled prose by ~number1loser


an acrostic for a fish Great, gallant soul!an acrostic for a fish by ~number1loser
Regal in both manor and make!
In our hearts, now and forever,
Fine finned friend,
For what reason did you leave us?
Intrepid we must now be, without you,
Nevermore to gaze upon your grace!


swimming in the sky with scales as deep as brandy wine,swimming in the sky by ~number1loser
you were a fair fish so very fine!
forever more will i remember,
the day i met you, 'twas september.
i think of the times when i poured for you,
pellets of provision from a tin so blue.
and now here i am, missing thee,
more than once, on my knees!
with tearing eyes and a troubled frown,
bereaved and bitter in this lonesome town!
and to my own dying day, i shall always recall
your delicate decadence through springs and falls.
