Behind the wall

I sensedĀ a monument of man.

And dreaming I could reach

through things

my hands grasped

and kneadedĀ the world.

As if in a quake

a tremor from below

shook the room of the house

and walls fell

in an avalanche

of vacuum drifting away.

Like a scream

without a voice

words ceased to sound

and you and me ceased to exist.

At the same time

we were aware of it all

and still are.

No one enters, no one leaves

I see you on the other side of each door opening.

When I step into the room, you step out.

When I leave, you enter.

Halfway once I ask you who you are.

You smile and answer.

Before you see me, we are one.

After you leave me, we are one.

In between are the doors of creation.

No one really enters.

No one really leaves.


Invisible World

A system of invisible worlds

Curled into itself

Stretching beyond imaginary horizons

Were everything lays dormant

Tribes found archetypes of reason

Modeled after floods and droughts

Scaffolding involuntary hand gestures

In sign language


Wat it is

Wat it wants



When I was a kid my mom brought home a vinyl of Manitas de Plata. When I heard that I knew I wanted to learn to play like that – and so I did – much much later I went to Spain and learned some flamenco and mixed it with what i could to make it sound gypsy…