Poetry Volumes

Conjecture Poems

soul to sole

umbrella

for a matadore

in clicks and ticks

of red and royal


distracted from

the cruelty of it all


the killer is not me


you see


by early light

and terror bought in

increments of

programs

brought to you by

money mongers


as promises of

"do not buy it

they will leave"

fall silent

bull in toe

we learn


in buying boots

or seeking truth

the killing

touches all our

soles.