Samuel Smith

is never easy, not even in a dream. You start with an old woman, long, grey tufts of hair shooting out of nose and ears, skin drawn taut against bone. ...

Perhaps this was the only way She knew To cure her memories To season for savoring What could preserve her still Through winters unknown Colder by far...

Perhaps you are perplexed to determine how two such disparate stories could be told about me. But the truth hides somewhere between...

“I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning.”...