The Waiting Room Let’s take a look into the room where the dead wait to be born again— The absolute boredom of it. It is a room inside the castle of string theory, where no nouns exist, only verbs—passive in this case: looking, hovering, being (but only sort of). The room is a tree, shimmering… Read More

The moon is disappearing into the fields The moon is disappearing into the fields as war approaches the horizon. Morning crawls from a crack and seeks a cave to hide. The crows refuse to cede the morning to the doves. Our shadows cling to us for warmth. How do we unfold the shrouds that holds… Read More