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

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

Yet I use it all the time. The weather? Check my phone. The time? Check my phone. Calendar? Check my phone. How many people died today? Check my phone. It’s so exhausting. Everything ha...

The words, the hate Flies, no, spurts Out of your dull mind Faster than comprehension Allows you to filter,

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

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

Is it too much to ask for, The self being contained Under the snow of your eyes Reaching out, never quite grasping The height of the situation.

Humanity is a tired, jaded, dirty face with bright

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

Look, the moon is out! It’s almost full moon. But it’s midday, the moon’s not su… Go away moon!

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.

In an instant she turned to ice. I fired myself to thaw her. But she was too cold