time reduced to ash all the clocks were made of fire burning each second

the Allen Bradley Tower clock looks at me like an all knowing ey… it tells me “you are home you were not born here

notebooks have been stacked in pre… filled with short stories bad drawings and of course

what I love about this country is the jazz and the blues and

it is not often that i think of peace or of the soldier i believe war is inevitable

race against midnight an eleventh hour dash for the quick finish

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

elusive needle hides from him in a haystack like looking for home

let’s say you’re trying to go somewhere who isn’t? but let’s say you never get there

she always turns a light on when she thinks of me checks under the bed to see if i left behind a kiss

coiled in a moment of wonder to ponder the venom of his existen… remembering every instance that he prepared himself to strike with no recollection of hatching

she broke up with him because he broke her oscillating f… on a 107 degree day in the Texas s… with one angry punch he destroyed the fan

my body is not a temple it is more like a corner bar in Wisconsin kneeling

what happened to it? pen with which he wrote the note ink of his last words