Tag: Poetry
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Alabaster eggplants frolic in a purple haze. Munchkins drop acid and watch Wizard of Oz repeatedly until one jumps out a window. Wood gnomes with shotguns play patriots on the streets of D.C. The world looks at them and laughs. Sharpie abusers make cardboard signs declaring freedom and love. Love?…
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Time is all nonsense now, like purple wine in a gravity-free cathedral. Jesus and his sex dolls are just spinning aimlessly.
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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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Censor me still-lifetake my Tomah Graphswimming in the Hollywood Holiday Inn poolnow drowning in a pool of my ownpainful frustrations and jittersuninvited guests in the gray of nightthis brain hurts like cinema for Alexhave another stick of chewing gumanother stick of dynamite to ease the griefyou so gallantly feel at…
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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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An anguished chill hurts the night kingthe moans of traffic dissect the interstatelonely bellows of travelers of midnight passageand me, well meI don’t really even know where I am, who I am, why I amsome windy, flattened palaceof stone and glass and flickering neonand I a statue filled with blood…
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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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There is this guy seewho lives upstairs from mehe’s the weird upstairs walking guywalks and walksbut he never says hi – until today he looked disheveled and bruisedhair all a musstoting a bank bag full of moneyand I’m wondering what all the walking is forfloor to floorhe walks and walkstill…
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I felt the breath of God in Santeeby the shores of Lake Marionthe spiders like aliensweaving webs the size of quiltswhite and silk tapestries of insect threadjungle creatures with big, black eyesand I looked to the skyovercast and clouds a boilingthe wind blew through the treetopsknocking the leftover rains from…
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