mr. potter's museum of curiosities


"We build our bones around hope. 

Sure-footed on the branch. The way 

we sang each morning to let everyone 


know we were still there, still alive. 

After the blackness we plunged into 

and out of intact. So many things 


that could still us in the darkness,  

but didn’t. So many that loved us, 

but couldn’t."


My work on unusual creatures, the box project, continues and will be available a little bit later this summer, but I put together this little lovely with all my creepy victorian taxidermy poems written this spring.  

You can read it fresh off the virtual presses right here.