in the grey
in the grey, in the rain, in the
pockets where I shove my hands,
nothing is left but a nickel and one more chanceRead More »
countertop conversations
kissing me
cold
selfishly,
intoxicating liar
the bottle is my
unfaithful partner
and I am her
abuser
Berez
By six years of age,
one ought to know some basic lessons,
like, “Not a peep ‘til the teacher calls
on your raised hand.”
I knew this lesson.
Berez did not.Read More »
S.S. Sinking (Utilizing Lady Gaga’s “Paparazzi”)
Is music sex?
And is sex love?
See, I am charged; I am impassioned.
I’ve an energy, this channel.
Still, I have an age to me
you may not live to know-
I may be set ablaze, but I’m old,
at least inside my soul.
I’ve a sadness,
an emptiness,
but it isn’t that my eyes are vacant.
No, emptiness isn’t a hole; it’s a mass.
It has heaviness, and it has weight;
It has substance.
And fingernails!
It clings to the walls of my heart, just like staplesRead More »
Twilight
branches bare but for withered leaves
almost like a skeleton
black against the periwinkle sky
reach for wings gone
branches bare but for withered leaves
almost like a lotus cluster
black against the periwinkle sky
reach for wings to come
(feat. in The Open Culture Collective)
we want girls
we want girls with
big hips
suspended over
thin thighs
balanced on some
muscled calves
latching onto
dainty feetRead More »
On Hope Pt. 4
I guess the singing sounds strange
if you don’t believe in it-
Light
shining in.
Like marrying and child-rearing
but still believing in Santa Claus.Read More »
On Hope Pt. 3
Perhaps it matters a bit to you
whether Mama or Dada came first,
but your first words aren’t on your list
of your greatest accomplishments.Read More »
On Hope Pt. 2
Unconsciousness lifts, ceasing being
your world. Instead, your sky-
a rooftop, as
you perceive it these days.Read More »
Alphabet Ravine 