Category: Poetry and Prose
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It’s the countdown to broken neck as end of summer lawns hiss as the sprinklers spit at the grass like riots, I am hungry and in pain deep down in the belly welly of life on bourbon street sans street, the plastic puppets of a childhood tossed in a bin…
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This is all a divine anatomical tragedy I thought as I leaned on the cold wet rail of green looking out at the sea, the chilled air billowing forth from my mouth, the oddities of life spilling from an aluminum pail at my side
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+ Bees, Creative Writing, Crystal Cathedral, Jazz, Magic Carpets, Prose, White Roses, Witch, Writing+
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The pit burns, hurts, the thinking of no reason, no need, no purpose, no peace, no rest, never rest, just a raw nerve constantly exposed to the other infatuation, the memory lust crawled upon far back in the head, the knowing, the pink deception, being merely a mule set to…
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The mutual poet and I wrapped our scars around rainbows like barbed wire cuts of rust wrenching the tears from the colored spine like lemon juice or the salty water from a baby’s crushed ice face. The mutual poet and I stayed up all night, for three nights, maybe a…
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When one is inside a living hell one begins to wonder if life really is hell and that we are living as damned souls rather than breathing beating flesh
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I come from a place not known a high hill tucked far away behind the sugar plants and the factories belching out babies in bleached Red Radio Flyers
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+ Alone, Baghdad, Iron Cross, Magic, Moon, Paris, Prose, Red Radio Flyer, Web, Wizard of Oz, Writing+
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You invented lovelike dragons spit firethe longing when you are gone,is an immediate reactionI’m drawn to your eyesI’m drawn to the night the full vibrato of darknessthe stars splashed so randomly across the universewe can touch them if we try Candles melt away so quickly herethis otherworld, this neverwhereWe are…
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It be catastrophic ink Hand-held jubilee in Sicily Heart ripped Via raw meat grinder Downtown high school The high bums making their way In cascading light and atrophy Train whistle kid runs I bus tables at some Italian joint Dirty head ware Lomticks of lowly paycheck curse the bank Stirring…
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The Linguini Ballroom is a black and blue champagne glass, the bubbles being elevators to space
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CEREAL AFTER SEX 