Ruler of Playgrounds, Past, Present, and Future, and La Vie en Vert
Before his passing, my grandpa Karr built a pagoda, where he and his friends from Singapore gathered and conversed.
We perched together, dug in roots that reached but did not intertwine for so long to each other
I lay, arms stretched in darkness, noon through the curtain call
Thin trees rise from the thick texture of the saw palmettos’ sharp green leaves.
When forced to choose between certain disembowelment by a ravenous Minotaur
The lantern my wife believes I’ve returned is still sitting in my shotgun seat. As we leave for church, she opens the door and finds it sitting in her spot, lacking the courtesy to move an inch.
The board had already been arranged. The pieces were circular stones, standing in formation atop a wooden battlefield.