Jason Hensel

This is the angle of explanation: Because I always boomerang back to you, I know the figure of your desires, how coming close is a crash landing into closed hands, how leaving is a giveaway ending. Blue is such a small word for feeling. The other day sparkling in memory, but dull in fact.  You

With Othello in the trees and Viola waiting in the wing, the tourist train came steaming, its belly announcing its arrival. The turn of words could not be interrupted, but our attention, subverted, snapped into this year. We almost slipped on future plans, and how and why and what to accomplish before we die, before