Author Archives: Chris Floyd

The heart not dead but numb with griefwrites in the leaves of other’s books.Ripe, dipped in fire, like horsesstumbling on crooked paths.Writes, the numb heart, to quellthe stillness, stagnant, writesto find the further stillness of motion.Writes, the numb, to dispelthe … Continue reading →

Today the floggingwill wash awayold categories.We will compose elegiesfor dead Indian chiefs,lauded now asecological exemplars.We will admit, finally,at the end of days,that we are too weirdto be redeemed.

Voronezh Black print on the bone-white page: Cyrillic crows above the steppe. For us, diversions, but for you, Strangled singer, more real than breath. Dissolved, the steel that held you fast. Released, the grip that tore your throat. Forgot, the … Continue reading →

  I sat down by the River Thames and wept. I sat down by the dirty water, by the jangled waves. The Roman ghosts, the abandoned plastics, the obscured, occluded depths, the swirling silt, like smoke beneath the surface, like … Continue reading →

The Computers Came The computers came, and the rich got richer. The computers came, and we had to work harder. The computers came, and our minds started racing in all directions; our eyes could not stand still. The computers came … Continue reading →

Respond If You Are Truly Willing (A culling of subject lines from one day’s gathering on the spam filter) Dear Beloved You are the only hope for the poor My dearest Want to get pussy I am here in the military … Continue reading →

“Mabel” © 2013 by Chris Floyd