drink from the dream cup welcome those ghosts of morning don’t fade out, sleep in
A long lone bicycle ride there. I have to stay off the booze. I have to stay off Facebook.
in third grade i confessed to my c… i didn’t know who Joe Montana was because i didn’t watch football the boys were quick to emasculate… and i was ready to punch their lig…
it misses the way we use to sit and breathe together inhaling and exhaling
what happened to it? pen with which he wrote the note ink of his last words
sometimes the butterfly is afraid to leave the cocoon that its wings are too bright that it might be shunned by caterpillars
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
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
droopy dark circles around the eye… brown eyes sad eyes sometimes he pees on the floor they rub his nose in it
into another corner bar they go climbing stairs covered in clumps… praying they don’t slip carrying s… hundreds of pounds of amplificatio… they set up in the corner
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
after a day surrounded by philisti… a not yet broken poet takes refuge in the familiar peace of desolatio… echoing quietly through two small… years ago this song came to him
she always turns a light on when she thinks of me checks under the bed to see if i left behind a kiss
let me brave myself for another da… for i am convinced that out there… worthy of all the pangs in the pil… let me have the strength to bear t… this face
i had most of the adults fooled the family was easiest they were none too bright what little smarts i had i must have got from my father