(after Mark Rothko) Alive, falling zero to the bone. I feel the zipper’s delicate weight,…

(after Sam Francis) Hemmed in, my eyes control the pattern. Wide open, the sexual colors…

(after Pablo Picasso) Salt drips endlessly in the mold-green runnels of these rocks, where blood…

Day and night she simulates dejection, a lachrymal bondage inflicts on those around her, those…

I Ceremonious and glandular, rancor’s king reports a wide tangent for his aim, posthumous servant…