..

Monthly Archives: February 2016

“Eleven is a Word”

The main forces in my life, That which regards truth for me, Are a sophisticated mosaic of fiery cogs Which have nothing to do with each other And give off head as if life has ended, The last slice of bread sliced, gave through and Thrown in the trash, As I walk by waiting for […]

“Pygmy Gel”

I tried to tell my uncle it sucked here, and he wouldn’t listen to me. He was sitting there in a bar, getting drunk, just like I was. What a fu**in’ idiot. That’s what there is here — bars. Bars inside of bars. You’ll be sitting in a bar getting sloshed, pouring beer down every […]

“Gravy Tares”

So my sin is just Existing in the spatial realm In a general sort of way… It’s like ORIGINAL SIN! . The way the hot gravy tares The end of the night for so many lonely beggars Shows me Indeed That I am trespassing, And that I Need only entrap myself In one of the […]

“Poster Child”

It just dawned on me, And never before — I wonder what it’s like to be a woman. . It is being a living, breathing target, A catch-22 detailed in The Breakfast Club, Love mistaken for surrender, Every day. . It is being given an artificial identity, One associated with conquest, Or transaction. . Any […]

“Kindling Apprehension”

When will I finally reach the ultimate summit, There, Where with a cheek to the world I will have Quested, Battered entropy, Effaced the status quo While With knowledge that the world was out to get me, Was a dark place That would eventually kill me, Reached that light of smashed dinner plates, And then […]

“Neurological Photo Album”

“All our best decisions are made unconsciously, like the heart continuing to beat.” “Why is it good for the heart to continue to beat?” “Well, it allowed you to ask that.” “Touchee.”

“For Spring”

Straightaways, Straight-edges We see Now Along with . Our ideals, A sun setting Behind a truck bed And the TV blaring To funnel monuments Of thought, . As to just see those straightaways, To make ourselves as small as an ant But brandishing moments with our faces to the sun Will walk us into the […]

“Rebirth of Objects”

Darkness, there, Again, As my gem-bound elixir Turned To something I’m afraid to know Tells me all over That to live is to bare teeth Hardening like our plastic pitchers On the surface, navy blue and white.

“Projected Handlings”

Morality is gone… How else could it be, Here giving myself into What all along, My parents would have wanted for me, The joy of living, There is no way, NO way, I could do unto others rightly On this trampoline of eyes, Eaters of moments and climbers of vines.