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Cunning Linguist
Let me be the first to shake your hand, fresh from a shattering kiss…
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When the Crickets Within Me Whisper
In the asylum no one sings on key. We sit in the silence, you and I, growing uncomfortable.
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Sex Emergency
In the season’s first sputtering love session she spews a short stack of pancakes on my shoes
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Lessons from a Happy Skeleton
What had happened was a moth got caught in my uncut ambition and by the time I noticed, its wings were in tatters.
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Heard at the Funeral
So, are you available in March? I’m getting married. Your father was a good man. Where would you like the urn?
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Brian Builta 