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A fairy tale about different kinds of love, runes and evil spirits.

A morning train from Denmark to Sweden reveals a stowaway from the 1970s in the 2010s.

On a recent trip to the town of my boyhood I witnessed the boarded up shops on the main street as the recession bites.

el psiquiatra deberías haber visto venir se dijo a sí mismo este como la puerta estaba cerrada en sus narices y todas las aguas hirvientes todos los rayos del sol

stirring trembling insanity on the sprung floor, the leaps that lead to balancing feats that no one can top--- she takes her time leaving flawless & sculpted in her leotard

the double edged sword flailed by all whenever a social connection is begun revealing its apical paradox like a mangy rabid dog who will also cuddle on a saturday afternoon next to your leg

Poem I wrote after the death of my mother and read at her cremation - the priest wouldn't allow me to read it at her funeral. It is only as I transcribe it that I understand why he wouldn't.