I’m lost and I’m scared.
She was a gift to the soil.
A memory: in the new house there was a tunnel
Maybe, I have always been eager to call myself a monster.
She holds them; they are the tribute tonight
The creature grew.
The first week the thing stared at her.
It’s peaceful here under the decaying leaves.
Night sky is a witch machine.
Riley wakes up in a strange house.
There are two dozen funerals a week in our town.
Perhaps for the first time ever, the house is in order.
At the end of the birdcalls, Pete enters from one side of the stage.
Not all things, she says, need to be ordered.
