Poems

Moving Through the Crowd Moving through the crowd at the memorial is its own education —The specific navigationOf who knew him which way, the variousClaims of relationship, the variousDescriptions of the man that emerge from the variousMouths in the variousPositions of the room, the multiple men he was. He was the colleague for the people […]

Mind Beastby Dawg In the sub-basement where cognition starts to buckle and degrade,something blind and ravenous is sharpening its blade.It calcifies around ambition, it dissolves the better plan,bleeds through every aspiration into something less than man. The beast runs corridors you’ve never charted, never crossed,it feeds on every certainty until the signal’s lost.No exorcism waiting,

Monte Cristo Homestead, Australia — Haunted Homesteadby Dawg Midnight wraps the homestead in a strangling shroud,Monte Cristo’s bones rise black against the wheeling southern cloud.Ancestral secrets crawl beneath the porch, in shadowed beams,a house alive with every wound, every echo of unspoken screams. Floors groan beneath invisible feet, bearing grief’s old scars,windows flicker with the

Lizzie Borden House, Massachusetts — Axe Me No Questionsby Dawg In Fall River, the fog curls thick as accusation on the street,history’s breath rising cold off clapboards beneath your feet.Victorian facade wears its story like an unwashed stain,a house where memory’s barbed wire wraps around every windowpane. The night is sharper here, bracing as unfinished

McRaven House, Mississippi — Mississippi’s Hauntby Dawg Deep where the kudzu strangles the fence and the hush never lifts,McRaven sits in stillness, holding centuries in its fists.White columns lean with exhaustion, wood swollen from the flood,porches groan at midnight–shadows thick as blood. Every window reflects the memory of faces now erased,curtains twitch at nothing, dust

Laperal House, Philippines — Nanny’s Wordsby Dawg Gnarled acacia claws the sky, the Laperal House looms–a relic lacquered in secrets, the air thick with tombsof memory–floorboards groan, boards stained by the years,and every shadow stretched thin with an undercurrent of tears. The laughter of children–too bright, too sharp–now cleavesthrough rooms where dust settles like the

Leap Castle, Ireland — The Elementalby Dawg In the tangled heart of Offaly where mists crawl thick as thieves,Leap Castle rises–ancient stone, secrets clinging to its eaves.The air is cold enough to strip marrow from your bones,every footstep echoes with the grief of ancient thrones. A thousand histories rot behind its scarred and battered face,dark

Island of the Dollsby Dawg In the heart of the canals, where the water moves slow as sorrow,rot clings to the roots, and the trees wear the skins of the damned–every branch bears a doll, hollow-eyed and broken,their plastic limbs cracked by too many summers,their mouths twisted wide, forever caught between laughter and warning. Legend

Invisible Ink x Going Through the Motions Going (Mashup) She’s three feet away and she’s somewhere past the state line,Thumbs running across the glass like I’m not on her timeline.Up at the approximate correct time—the clock says something close to right,Coffee before seven, check the back lock, step into the lightOf the morning’s practiced opening

Island of the Dolls, Mexico — Play With Meby Dawg Drowned beneath the moon’s unflinching stare,a raft of memories drifts through stagnant air.Branches shudder with strung-up bodies, porcelain grins cracked wide–limbs half-eaten by time, button eyes stretched open, nothing left to hide. Their skin collects mildew and secrets, painted lips split in a silent scream,each