Judit Reigel, Guano (Menhir)

Follow the tracks the crows make

the splintered blue

imprints of trees in water.

Impressed by pond scum leap

over this into that

green into green.

Recent Posts

Bird-scream bustle you tangled arms and cars pushing and pulsing with dreams caught in your throats—gag— wait—is that a dagger I see...

My house but the rooms are not mine. Here is where I sat to escape my death, here the mirror of the many faces. Each room says “where?”...