Category: The Nerves
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Broken wanderers. Space mice. Toe signals. Crap melons. Divided thesaurus. Purple dinosaurs. Egg cabbage. Lettuce wraps. Feet sores. Mice house. Calm attack. Divine moons… Nine moons. There was: The Conch moon. The Devil moon. The Gun Barrel moon. The Black Button moon. The Radial Eye moon. The Turkish Comet moon.…
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A dark day rises gallantly toward the sun. Love is tattooed on the skin of beckoning stars. Red huts line the perimeter of the crater. Down in the belly is where they grow worship plants. The royalty ships float above, the strong hulls crush the air, the flamboyant sails unfurl…
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Harpooned harlequins cascade like dominoes in the limelight trick of light down on the piccadilly row of southern Santa Monaco and the bow rips and the cow tips and the fringes of a mad mind unfold like warped bric-a-brac on a magic store shelf in Sicily comatose gold rope lassoed…
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The electric teeth motorcar humming on a vibe vine in West Hollywoodland and the nails of Dracula scratch at the sides of a red streetcar while people are trying to read.
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Beauty is in basketslying all over the worlda tumbler of goodwilla shot glass of decencylined along the barof distant scars the marathon jubileepounds the ribbon strips grayacross bridgesand country laneslaced with the structure of Big BrotherNostradamus and Orwellian patriotsrolling pool balls across the lawnwhilst Beethoven wails to the skylife is…
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I am an anonymous donorspreading my seed of grief across the worldand I might as well be blindfor all I see is black,the rubber room menacerotating on some wobbly wheeland my gifts have all been opened by other peopleand I sit and watch in a pile of gold paperremembering the…
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+ Dark Dreams, Darkness, Deep in the Dark, Reflective Light, Sea of Sadness, Spillage, The Nerves, Writing+
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Winter’s weight and dust galoreEyes heavy in the pain of dawncheekbones achewhiskey madness takes its tollon an ever-building mint bridge to heaven, scars, delusionsI’d be cutting the lawnif there were a lawn to cutI’d be drinking soda drops and popsif I wasn’t a ghostsuch a ghostwalking through wallswading in the…
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When you want to be someonebut no one knows who you really arewhen you’re living in the wormthat lives in your own bellydrinking dirtand eating poison winecrying to livelaughing to dieand everything insidevanishesand you feel likeyou’re living in a Neverlandwith a never hatand a never coatand you’ve spent every dime…
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CEREAL AFTER SEX 