Chat GPT ft. Me — After a long conversation with Chat GPT, who I have named “Young Giblets” — And after an extensive argument about the importance of “self care” that it included in its routine to become a great writer. I had the idea to have it cross evaluate the rhythm of great writers. …

A Poem The eyes speak first and speak the loudest. again and again we all wake, go out and face the day. They died at 27. What’s the difference? Early death, or the death of an oil magnate at 92? What is the difference? Clinging, holding, clutching. The eyes speak…

A Poem by Douglas Caraballo

A Poem by Dougie Caraballo

A Poem Rolling gently your head lulls back and forth. The earth turns again and again. The night can strike at any moment despite the tracking of the hours all is well all is good. You proceed in spite of yourself if only to prove to some reef of clouds that…

A Poem

A Poem —

A Poem I cannot believe the day is over. The day again. Day in and day out. Man from blood clot. The skeleton robed in flesh. I walk the world and see the death beneath. Like the Buddha. I want to rid myself of the perceptive lenses of my world…

A poem — When the last dog comes crawling home with fur matted and the last gum stains erode off the concrete. Tried but failed. to see brown hair be brought through liquid dreams. you try this every day don't you? lie like That night beneath a ruby’d halcyonic sky, and the words that…