Robert Siegel

I hang upsidedown from the roof of your skull sleeping—my wings crossed over me like Pharaoh’s arms, locking in a wisdom millennial sands have leached and buried. We are here by the thousands. Light tilted upwards stirs us in a dark hoodoo: ripples of crepe, eyes like red sequins, fangs that . . . . Continue Reading »

Z—the fly is at the sill. Z Z—I am silent, riding the center Of my web, the intricacy of my thought Spelled out like the stars and the bonds between them. Z Z Z My feet make no noise as I dance to the edge Of my galaxy, this gossamer star-net that catches The sun filtering gray through . . . . Continue Reading »