Yellow-green leaves lie still Upon the concrete ground. Cars are parked, People are sparse; It is the afternoon.

Ah, my sincerest apologies. I have a tendency to drop dead In front of gorgeous women.

Lifeworld is wondrous full of possibilities endless in time theoretically

Bestow upon me wisdom So that I may forget it Once again.

Around her neck Hangs an emerald line, Dotted with sun-facing flowers; Silky smooth, speaks her mind. This line brings this poet

The wall’s broken down, The river’s run aground, The water’s sound Is nowhere to be found. The angst of it comes to call

Betwixt imagination And anxious reality You exist; A phantom. I hear you

This headache, these carpenters in my bedroom, pound my respite with no quarter. Just now, I need, despite the con…

Progression or depression, it depends on the portends. But never regression.

Humanity is a tired, jaded, dirty face with bright

Smile at me you vixen, melt me and step your red stiletto in the puddle,

From the day that we met your name has bounced around in my… increasing in volume it’s really loud now but i don’t mind

I can see you’re still bleeding. I would like to dress your wound, my wound. In my haste I now realize, I bleed too.