watching horror films on vhs with gramma saturday nights

he does not to leave the vine out of any loathing for his kin he simply can not stay waiting around to turn to raisin knowing that out there somewhere

Charles with his typewriter and bottles a bluebird held hostage in his hea… all the women he wanted all the jobs he didn’t

if the fairy spreads her thighs for the goblins finger the happy ending never comes even if she does

if you dream me dream me without these horns without scorn back beside the lord

it was the hottest new spot on the east side of course and of course

you drag a soul around in a body and some nights it’s a bag of bricks wondering if there’s anything left to dream for

when at war for so long peace becomes an awkward conflict so you keep fighting

all of my weary and all of my woe is made into perfect sense a common thread in my favorite son… familiar tones of sadness the beauty of malaise

submerged so deeply in abysmal woes of self he makes his last choice

you took leave of Egypt for southwest Tennessee the African sun left for the warmth of Sun Record… i commend the move you made

i was 24 riding the Amtrak for the first ti… with a six hour layover in downtow… i left the station looking for a s… but before i found anything resemb…

walking down the path that leads t… from 15th street i pass the same pothole that was t… twenty-two years ago as black and as deep as it was

quick to lock ourselves in a prison cell of arrogance incarcerated by our own egos freedom can not happen until we reach through the bars

i followed the pigeons to Gordon park just to hear them coo their electric feathers alive in the sun