Category: Deep Thoughts
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A red sunset is hanging in the sky A warm blotter of heat love Hanging on a hook in space, my thunder Talking to me about motion, heartbeats, time moving Like machines under the earth Your heartbeat tastes like chocolate Melting down my red bones and blue sky Love is…
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+ Creative Writing, Deep Thoughts, Ethereal, Haunted Light, Memory Scrawls, Reflective Light, Writing+
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Do you have a rainbow? A colorful one—like cereal. No, I meant an umbrella. For the coming monsoon. I’ve been watching the radar for the last 72 hours with no sleep and it looks like there is a possibility for some storms. I had to get on the radio and…
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There’s a half-empty bottle of Snapple on the desk Love is vicious Love is calm Love is everywhere And yet so distant In a world gone wrong Star maps line the walls Prescription bottles are collected on shelves Outside the sun is blazing Inside the time is draining Me This…
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There was a heart in Central Park. It was lying there in the curled leaves and the grass saying goodnight. It beat a bit but was slowing. I was sitting on the park bench watching. Nobody cared. The idiots were oblivious. I was alone as usual, trying to get some…
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He had a wandering image that followed him, something about ravioli in a lonely café somewhere on the other side of the world. Light rays harken down thin alleyways, the sun an orange ball in the sky, the clouds clotted with heat, melting like a sorcerer’s tongue on acid, leopards…
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I built a chair today in my workshop I made it out of milk skin and aggression God was my co-pilot but then the plane crashed I wrestled with tangled earbuds I woke up at 2 a.m. and ate English muffins with butter and honey It’s hot outside but I’m…
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The sky was black most of the day because the sun went and hid behind the world. It was something like Winter Solstice and the world was tipping over like a bucket of paint, a deep red spilling making a big wet mess on the universe. Our lives are universal,…
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I was alone to the bone On an afternoon in Rome The ballistic tests all positive Spears sharpened to a bird-beak point The traffic keeps rolling in honking circles ‘Round a statue of some Italian holy hobo There are flaming balls on catapults And smoky talk in the underground lounge…
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And there were orange baptized bullets lodged in a wall of sea salt adobe and skull, a hard skull of architecture burned and bandaged the sun was far too bright as I dug them out with the tip of a knife and I was suddenly cursing the violence of Southwest…
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CEREAL AFTER SEX 