his wings are lazy buzzing around the same pond a fly scared to change
dressed only in screams showered with water and death life escapes by drain
to reach for the pen only when you need it is a mistake you must reach for it everyday eventually it grows familiar with…
i dream of a world ruled by art where the letters that come in the mail are written in fingerpaints and tornado sirens sound off to th…
(a) his job (b) his home (c) his girl (d) his mind (e) his life
slippery bars make it hard to hold… captive against your will always lathered in the sweat of es… you elude any sentence
sometimes a vampire wants to see t… but people of the village keep his… chained shut with garlic they wear crosses around their nec… so that if he ever does get out
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
i search each second find words under rocks and rugs looking for poems
i followed the pigeons to Gordon park just to hear them coo their electric feathers alive in the sun
in one kiss four lips translate all the languages of the world into a story none of us understand
my body is not a temple it is more like a corner bar in Wisconsin kneeling
THE ARTIST constantly trying to get somewhere he
as her eyes broke open most of it washed away in a dry wave of consciousness there were a few drops left near the corners of her botto…
he looks off into the distance as if god exists waiting beyond the winds with some kind of answer he looks on dating sites
