Tag: Writing
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Jesus passed her a joint as they sat on a bench in a golden-green park like Oz far up in Heaven
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You can’t say no to that when she feels so good naked
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And love is but a trickle in this RAMSHAMBLED river of love, the armies of men keep marching upon the bones of memories under the grass, shot out of cannons, cloud seed ashes billowing and giving the puff of life when all falls down the stairs and justice can’t see…
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At the crossroads of the metal moon and spilled-milk stars and beneath the exit to the Earth and its sun, a thumb rolls across a spark wheel and Wilburn Valentine’s labored face glows orange for just a moment.
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Zombie in sweatpants jogging in the ghetto, arms stuck out lean and mean, cold soles slapping the greasy street
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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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“But Mr. LaBrush. I was simply making a statement about the love for all people and accepting Christine for who she is via the spirit of a shirtless Dave Gahan.”
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+ Bus, Bus Station, Depeche Mode, Digestion, Irish, Minnesota, Short Fiction, Swedish Meatballs, 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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CEREAL AFTER SEX 