“He is” – now live on hotel masticadores

the savory smell amongst loblolly pines and chestnut oaks whispers lying beneath scarlet sunset which calls nocturnal animals to rise the slope of a mountain, the roar of a waterfall that tumbles with immense force to mold and smooth the pebbles within smells waft from the head of a newborn, milk swells in the breast…

My poem haiti-the forgotten dying land now featured on edge of humanity

scant trees hold precious life in soildownpours run without mercyflushing minerals into low landscharcoal created from the sparse bushtiny fingers burn on hot boiling potof small green leaves collectedoverfished waters leave nets lying emptysilent goat bones weave like shadowsstomachs ache like a black tooth decaying blank stares of a slave child with a swollen bellychained…