Author Archives: davidkootnikoff

As night seems longer than it hasHas hell frozen over?I wait for a returned messageIs he lost to this death? Her friends are unloving todayShe’s thrown the towel inThat pain Continue Reading →

Such a horrific nightmare I had!Something, a ghastly demon, I believespawned from the ancient bones of all the graveyardsand promptly after its repulsive, nasty birthit set off to consume and Continue Reading →

My body is sacred. It comes from the earth. Invasive species do not phase me, But oil and coal try to erase me. My body is sacred. The blood in my veins flows through me Continue Reading →

Body made from candle waxeyes carved out of fear.A mouth that can only whisper,a nose that only bleeds.Ears that never listenas instead of out, they go in.Monster is what they Continue Reading →

Every piece of plastic ever created still exists.The man in the television is telling my father about the many ways the world is endingWhile my mother reads a book on Continue Reading →

Generations, Untethered / A Kind of Mother: I think my mother is me. I think I am her mother too. I have her eyes, her face, her hair, her smile. Continue Reading →

Crows, jays, and ravens embody the gastric spirit of the forest. Small, insistent stomachs with sharp beaks, they materialize from the pines, calling, coughing, claiming.  Nothing will suffice or satisfy. Continue Reading →