Disembodied: Poems for Wandering Ghosts

Let us barge into a dreamworld right now. The spirit roams, soaking in kindred ghosts and the whirl of disembodied poetics, feasting on licorice, chatting with stars. So we wander, souls groaning, words braiding and tangling. We dig among the ceramic owls and relics of the dead for understanding, visibility and glitter. We emerge in the afterglow of midnight poetry, alone but stalwart, bathed in harp-song.