The Remnants of Tank Treads

A glance, tipped with the taste of kohl and hemlock; soft beauty ringed in silhouette of stark predation, scorn and self-awareness married by pride shown in the gentle turn of a sneer that fades with her advance

In Public Conversations

Fenders crush and mangle; glass is thrown like a bad hand to pavement and thru flesh.   Then a dark red rises on the horizon of a dashboard Bodies stumble out as bright colored lights announce, in hysteria, their tragedy.   …And all in the world glance sideways and drive — to their parking places [...]