F.J. Bergmann

I do prefer an orphan, whose demise
is rarely noted. Far from nymphomania,
I've had no more than twelve since coming here;
less...

I look out onto a landscape that could have been
formed by a glittering gas, heavier than air,
hissing out of the shower head...

Their hives were castles of yellow sulfur;

their language, a barrage of white noise.

Even their house pets had wheeled feet

or...