English

Once Upon A Time

before mornings were stained
with coffee and whiskey
and burning tobacco

when things were white as milk
and foamy like
furry dinosaurs’ hugs

the air smelled good
and life went with it

and not much was known
underneath the placid surface—

I miss you—

I miss hovering
above that waterline with you

and being there—
and the push that used to carry us

Published by Eunoia Review (November 2025)


Misplaced

as you appear
you are riding sugar cubes
wrapped in old school
cobalt blue paper
through the window of a cheeky
small town pastry shop
like you never died of cancer

inject some fresh color
in those worn out curtains
and let’s go

let’s tumble down
those lime washed terraces
slanted toward the emerald
of a pebbled cove there
waiting to poke our feet

a fragrance lingers
remnant of a world
that knows no end
—like a sun that never sets—
where mothers whisper “once upon a time”
as their youth fades into fable

—another piece of pastry crumbles
to leave the front window
for the back of the store

no one knows what happens there
it’s only neon lights like—
like they are trying to breach the darkness

Published by Eunoia Review (October 2025)


Striploin Recipe

Spread two drops of olive oil
on the palms of your hands—
massage the meat lightly

add salt and spices
to your liking—
make it sink in

lay down gently
in a greasy hot pan to sear

pour two sips of Bordeaux
and let everything come together

peel the potatoes
you boiled earlier

pick their skin off
with your fingers—
they should be earthy
and substantial
as we were once

unknown —undressed—
yet draped in dreams and visions
of a future that came to us

and that we consumed
like juicy meat

Published by Eunoia Review (March 2025)


The Things Between

a sky-blue bag of
basmati rice
half a can of lubricant
and a red guitar

the things I left there
like stitches
to feel like myself
around those parts

I’ll pick them up when I return

there

the filtering system drips
and the yard’s stones lose
a little edge each day
as the sun beats down
and a stray hares in
a chicken bone in its mouth

here

things need sweeping after
months of the overhanging cliffs
raining dirt and sea-salt
on a motionless home

still I go back to tanned toes
pressing on ivory dust
that’s soft like flour and smooth
like creamy happiness

Published by Eunoia Review (March 2025)


Picture Elements

breadcrumbs
for a starving blue tit

you scattered them
in the fluctuating corners
of a cloud

to be revisited in odd migration—
they come together
to render your thumbnail

and print your words
and the thought of you returns
through their relation

to leave me one more time
stabbed and drenched
in grateful sorrow

Published by Eunoia Review (March 2025)


Through The Sieve

the stone crumbles
day after day
as it tumbles

down the stairs
an old lady climbs
with her niece and a crutch
“we shall pass through the sieve” she says
in a language unknown
as she's trembling like dust

the stone pulverized
goes back in the mix
it will take shape soon
in the world that will be

Published by Open Doors Review (June 2025)


LOST & FOUND

I left something behind
somewhere in a corner
I set it down gently
and still it left a mark

then I took one step off
the usual path
hoping that I could make
the needle skip a beat—

leaving the scar I need

Published by Eunoia Review (August 2023)


LIFE #207332

here lies the fractured flower pot
as things that were long fed
with sacrifice evaporate

don’t stare at the mess so much
our wounds are not on display—
give me your voice instead

to sing that we are still
in there somewhere—
between dirt and broken clay

Published by Eunoia Review (December 2023)


LIFE #206123

I turn away to look at you
and feel as it was flowing—
the strength to be a father
that I had to make from scratch
by drawing in deserted rooms
and from empty spaces

Published by Eunoia Review (December 2023)


the curse of gray
for Valerie

shoveling gravel by the conquering bramble
I nurture slithering whispers
and send them to find you
and they never return

so I feed—
in a ditch with carnies and beach bums
such as myself
when brute hands rest on the splintering grain

I learned
when illusions dissolve
something goes with them

perennial absence—words thrown like a handful of nails
supposed to hold emptiness like they’re fixing the floor

this predicament is ruthlessly simple

your place is deserted
my heart is still raging
near by the gravelly road

Published by Eunoia Review (February 2024)


mother & prawns

creatures stretch
across the counter
and you're cutting them open

the more you cut the more I feel
helpless tenderness

innocence— trauma
still vivid on the skin

I wonder what it was
I couldn't see

what passed
before me

when it was you
under the blade

Published by Eunoia Review (April 2024)


Fading Measure

I look upon a mountain town
that drops to shore and parts
its winter days by blade

one edge is forged by sunbeams
the other by the biting frost of shade—

the moment gapes and
so do my saturated pupils

for an old ache lost its grip
and the measure of time
finally fades

Published by Lothlorien Poetry Journal (May 2024)


“L'Eternel”

a gravely road
leads to “L'Eternel”

with bumps and rocks
that can trip you
and make your knees bleed

creatures flying and crawling
with mechanical charm
like bulbuls* and geckos and cardinals*

the air gets a taste
of fried rice roasted spices
fresh fish or prawns—

a gravely road
leads to “L'Eternel”

as we go
and come back
every day

*Local names of birds in Madagascar and Mauritius

Published by Lothlorien Poetry Journal (May 2024)


The Azaleas Are Watching

keep your lush eye on me
for that might temper
the shards of glass
and the broken teeth
that fill my mouth today

the silence between us
— a rustling garden
humming its tune

as the shattering impact
the crow bar
the fracturing jaw
linger out there
— their terror
unable to reach

Published by Eunoia Review (September 2024)


And Capers Yelled Their Scent

I took a path removed
where lemons basked
and capers yelled their scent
in hazy summer rage

the ruthless sunlight
ruptured the facades
of empty homes carved
out of the cliffside

and as I joined them
I set down this promise
to seep within the fractures
and wait for newborn steps

to murmur once again
that I am with you

Published by Eunoia Review (September 2024)


LIFE #202313

Leave

and these shores will remember you in longing

Stay

and you too will be forgotten and consumed
to become fish scales or immobile rock and rind