reversible recycled apron. corduroy, cotton, silk, wool, lace. 2008

make enemies. buenos aires, argentina. 2008

A tunneled tale of the lachrymatory

If the pines are the
needles plunged
deep in your back

back where you
left your telephone
tower and all
things still wet in cement

admire such notions
as not needing
for breathing

take comfort in child brides

whose suicidal suitors
shall rise from the
graves of

500 Afghan soldiers
17 Kurdish rebels

two Chinese peasant children

quite concentrated
over a game
of chess.

[Brooklyn, New York 2008]

make believe, mummery, metamorphisis. 2008.

from me rooftop, o' rooftop

"i stepped from plank to plank" 2008

"For Future Generations" by Bertolt Brecht

We live in a dark time.

When to speak without anger is only to 

     reveal that you're a fool.

When a forehead without wrinkles

Is testament to your heartlessness.  When

     he who laughs

Has simply not yet heard

The terrible news.

What sort of time is this, when

To speak of the trees seems a crime,

Since it means you're keeping silent about

    violence?

He who steps calmly down the street

Must be deaf to the sufferings and sorrows

Of his friends.

We can still earn enough to live on,

But believe us:  That's an accident.  Nothing

We do gives us the right 

To eat our fill.

We've survived by accident.

(If they notice our success, we're finished.)

They say to us: "Eat and drink! Be glad at

    least you're not hungry!"

But how can we eat and drink if

We're taking food away from the starving, if

The glass of water we drink is what a 

     thirsty man needs?

And yet we eat and drink.

We'd like to be wise men.

The ancient books tell us what wisdom is.

It means to put aside the battles of the world

     and live one's life

Knowing no fear.

To abjure violence.

To answer evil with kindness.

Not to get one's wishes, but to forget them.

This is considered wisdom.

And we're incapable of it.

We live in a dark time.