Without Her Children


One broken hair in the nose of God, says the one who noticed her.
It’s the way she walks. Like there was a wet turd between her feet and the ground.
She tries to smile because she has gotten what she asked for.
It’s not what she wants. She wants to suffer. She doesn’t know how to ask for that.
As if, for a moment, something had risen and turned and neatly swallowed its own
Because cleanliness is next to fear.
Soft on the inside, like a confidence man.
That’s when more is offered, so that when it’s taken away, we can go searching for
a moral.

Fiction. Modern Abstract Fables.

(First edition, hardcover with dustjacket, 524 pages, $36.50 USD.)

Tunneling to the Moon: A Psychological Gardener’s Book of Days draws from fairy tales, a condescending of a 1938 Social Studies reader for 6th grade, an 1890 handbook on marital compatibility, numerous annoying educational advancement studies, the myths and legends of third-world countries and minority peoples, pulp fiction, a history of carnival side shows, folktales, frequent conversations with Crows, Owls and a wide variety of underground inhabitants, insects and the people who collect them, Joseph Cornell, Günter Eich, Russell Edson, the French Surrealist poets, the Quay Brothers, letterpress printing, and the author’s inability to channel his imagination linearly.

Begin from the beginning, catch up, read daily. Just refer to the Burrow Guide.