RUN LiKE a WiLD DOG COLLECTiON
This body of mine is not like the ones we’ve made before. We have not always been this way with the vessel walking across the land. We have not surrendered all that ales our human form, though we have purged much with abandon…
MOUTHFUL OF BLOOD COLLECTiON
This collection examines a disheartening struggle to maintain a grip on the promise of civility in society, the nation, and the fleeting sight of a unified planet coexisting in this lifetime that, in our inkling of a moment, seems filled with absolute horror.
HEAVY LiGHT
The earliest of collections after BURN THiS, HEAVY LiGHT is an exploration of humans being between halls of various reasonings through reality that spring with age. From Cincinnati to Covington, this work encourages The Artist, laborers of veritable collars, and the young traveler to get lost in the subterranean tunnels of Quebecoi, Montreal to find themselves crossing the western shelves of understanding in Denver, Colorado.
TO THOSE HEROES BEFORE THEiR TiME
i fear it may be too late to salvage what mess we’ve made with reputation, though this’ good how far we’ve come without noticing too much otherwise—
On the other hand, i am glad you were welcome to see me this way…
— samuel
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EVERYTHiNG iS A GiFT At the party, we are the first to arrive. After assisting with the mid-centry chest and placing it in the kitchen, i am offered a beer. Giving the story of keeping the brand in business while working the LQ in Denver, we go outside to hang lights before the others show.…
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GREEN OVER BLUE I’ve known the broken seed the barren root of seedless oranges of the orange tree and bare spot of earth where grey horse gallop thunderous hoof over bone. I’ve known the sea’s murky floor dusty and full of tiny white fish under the sand sifting for pleasures of the deep while gulls and doves search for their journey…
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CONSiDER YOURSELF iNVOLVED 2008 Darfur heartbreak is the back of the hand. We know it well— to understand the void aimed, cocked back and loaded to hunt down devils and demons, forgetting where strange wood of melancholy grows further than within ourselves. Branches grow from out our ears with little irritating ants carrying poisons wrapping the mind in…
SAMUEL T. PHiLLiPS 
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