and death is spreading through the… violets are blue and the zombie in the mirror is me when the bones start
he came out of the New Orleans shadows first went the grocer and
right at that age where she is lea… like a cynical fox taking guarded… in the forest still looks for someone she doesn’… but knows it is because she believ…
i walk like an appetizer onto the moonlight tongue the wine is in my blood
i don’t believe anything i read unless it’s a poem
he speaks to me through early Alic… only with darkness does light shine and
still he saws at the legs of his Steinway old habits only die hard so he tickles the ivory cigarette hanging from his lips
submerged so deeply in abysmal woes of self he makes his last choice
on a good day a poem is just a death threat to e… on a bad day it is a love letter
what I love about this country is the jazz and the blues and
a man must find his way to live in the world a poet must find his way to let the world live
if the fairy spreads her thighs for the goblins finger the happy ending never comes even if she does
i search each second find words under rocks and rugs looking for poems
so close to travels rocks along the railroad tracks never board the train
the next one in the holder on the… can barely contain itself one corner is already protruding hoping like hell that when she finishes her burrito
