i’m writing this to you my friend because the last time i said goodb… it was passive i thought for sure we would be
dawn is a coffin stars take their graves in morning come night, resurrect
illuminated with the yellowish-ora… parked alone now waiting to be driven away by the last man at the office dedicated to his job
long begrimed with dust a floor looking for a broom love me for my scuffs
he keeps it bottled for days like these vintage destinies rush toward the… breaths of dead fruits inhale deep… and he drowns himself in their req…
“An unexamined life is not worth l… —Socrates “Suicide’s an alternative.” —Mike Muir humanity is the unwiped
(a) his job (b) his home (c) his girl (d) his mind (e) his life
i search each second find words under rocks and rugs looking for poems
i used to go to Gramma’s every Sunday evening we would order pizza watch whatever shows we could agree on
when his jam comes on one second in an electric burst hits his gut he pulls his shoulders upright bites the left side of his bottom…
when the piano notes are dancing rhythms of candle light it’s hard to hear the fire go out the room cools its quiet wakes your fear
his grin covered in melted chocola… his hands covered in blood and no one to stop him thieves are not running scared they are running the show
there once was a drop of water misplaced in the ocean that was meant for something more never belonging with other drops lost at sea
we are all worth more than the bread crumbs they throw u… minimum wages
a foot wants the ground take each step with gratitude to walk is to live
