Category: 500 or Less
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Eve 13
There are faces in the cold Staring back through the snow Heart blood love letters tracing the stars of space I am alive inside beautiful girl But the traffic takes me away The noise, the lights, the mad rushing all fever and pitch If to just hold you in second’s dawn In a moment of Read more
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Dream Leaps
Rows upon rows upon rows Apartment buildings Different colors, shapes, and sizes Dream leaps across the lawns Buttresses like butter In the warm, misty dawn Four bedrooms, wood paneling Room after room of hideous furniture My table in the dust 1800 dollars a month Voices in the hall, in my head I can’t afford this Read more
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Free Falling in a Mall
You can’t say “write like magic” It isn’t right to be so tragic And Nob Hill hip And Q-Town super fresh So write like magic despite the tetherships of the world I ache to conjure up all the words I need for literary architecture Why doesn’t my mind simply bleed? It’s a spring dream these Read more
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Psychedelic Encounters in an Empty Vessel
Pink jukebox spins an array of psychedelic tunes in a diner on the wrong side of the desert where the crows dance and bow and she wipes away the sweat from her frosted brow. She thinks it’s cold outside. Cold in the desert. What does she know? It can get cold in the desert. There’s Read more
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The College of Cannibalism
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A skirmish of desire I fight the voracious appetite of distraction But I eat myself alive Like in architecture school The room, the windows The drawing tables The long walk across campus on a fall day I never fit in Especially when they asked me to disrobe A study in free-hand drawing To loosen the Read more
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The Comatose Scarecrow
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The emotional river flees fluidly like me. There must be some kind of disabling plate in my head. A blockage, a barrier reef, a comatose scarecrow holding an eternal lamp in a Halloween field of moonlit night. Frosty crows soar across the face of the man in the moon. They cry for salvation, yet cruise Read more
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Sanctums of Stickiness
Nothing in this head but letters to the dead The hollow hell of yellow hills I berate the dirt and uranium trails The travelers wail Sitting by a fire in the drunken woods Blue-white flames pierce the black of night Then on the beach On the shores of the Gulf of Mexico El stupido I’ll Read more
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Opium Milk
I stepped into the room and spun the globe A world of magnified madness started to fly Countries stuck to the walls Oceans fell to the floor Mysterious islands went out the door I was glued to the window A spring memory in orange sun I could hear the menagerie of birds through the glass Read more
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The Caspian Tea House
I was in an Azerbaijan tea house at the shore of the Caspian Sea. The house was soft in texture and made of orange wood and white curtains. I went to a large window facing the slow, curved road and looked out. The water was the deepest green blue, like the woman’s glasses at the Read more
CEREAL AFTER SEX 