i expose myself a show boat and a show pony i suppose myself a poet
it opens with a violin slowly bowing its premeditated plo… stalker lurking in darkness waiting for a victim to stroll by the verse comes out quick
for wars not fought and battles not waged axes that fell from the hands of warriors
the friction ridges on his fingers are different than most where there are usually arches there are the shapes of broken hea… and laughing faces
i would be excited to hold it tickle its little belly and watch it laugh if it cried i would search enthusiastically
sometimes the butterfly is afraid to leave the cocoon that its wings are too bright that it might be shunned by caterpillars
i saw atrocity and deceit upon the… blood spilling down its jagged cli… tragedies unbound scaling the peak i tried to warn others not to climb this vicious monster
my body is not a temple it is more like a corner bar in Wisconsin kneeling
the Allen Bradley Tower clock looks at me like an all knowing ey… it tells me “you are home you were not born here
at odds with the sky I have rid myself of every feather and with my beak i have chewed off… of my wings if i am to see my dreams die
trust me i am a moth and there is light ahead i would not lead you into absolute… i would not take you into perpetua…
stuck out on a ledge with no stairs no ladder and no one to catch me
after a day surrounded by philisti… a not yet broken poet takes refuge in the familiar peace of desolatio… echoing quietly through two small… years ago this song came to him
every song smoking drinking partying with
dreams need their distance she learned from burnt fingertips do not touch the stars