Amsterdam
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Amsterdam Man
Liquid day Fog, breath Cornucopia of popping white lights Amplified chatter, chaos, screaming children The central corridor of the train station has a blue hue Blue hearts straining, loving, pounding Memories of Mafia at the edge of my mind I look down at the ticket Amsterdam The windmills and flowers woosh by As the train… Continue reading
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Voided Orange Old Goat
Out in the Southwest I was Terracotta patio four stories high Two black metal chairs Black metal table Void of an ashtray Void of an ice-cold drink colored lime green Void of a second person Void of a robot companion There’s a view upon the valley of red rock thorns Thick towers of sandstone polished… Continue reading
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Comic Stripped (P.1)
It was a morbid Monday at the Fist Gallery in Mankato, Minnesota as Bob Weir’s acid ghost was mumbling the lyrics to Black Throated Wind as he lazily strummed a toy guitar in the corner and the manager polished antique glass doorknobs with a clean, white cloth. Continue reading
cereal after sex 