Collected Works in Contemporary Art and Literature
Attacks of Radiance I’m cured now, before I was sick. That’s what they say, I can’t be sure, neither seems quite right. When I’m sick I feel assaulted by luminescence, buffeted by incandescent angels. The world has shape and I’m a jubilee of joy. The world makes perfect sense…
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“There was no thought of an egotistical self-sacrifice, no thought of anything left behind… only the immediate bliss of the end of the physical self.”
“The self becomes the measure of the universe, to the detriment of literary depth… Literature ceases to be a vessel for empathy and becomes a stage for self-confirmation.”
“New York City arms / around the girl and her dreams / opening poems and poets / walking and sweating / flitting around salsa / on Pier 45 at dusk”
“They walk, the drops falling / like punctuation / on their decisions.” A quiet confrontation with truth, where rain doesn’t cleanse—it reveals.
“Like boulders surrendering to time / and mountain streams that through them whet / their bulk to granules of regret…”
“It all seemed like a vast stretch, For me at least. Especially when it came to our cousins, Joe and Primo, Who would laugh at us for our actions. Trying…
AI art isn’t the enemy. It’s the next brush. There is no equity in art, only merit. You are either worthy of being seen, or you are not.
“She taught me to sew scars shut with words, but every thread unravels in the moonlight.”