(2014)
now, I’m no Bukowski but my friends who don’t like poet… except his stuff, tell me they like mine, and I can drink like a drinking machine
webwomb’s not the maker of me. came into it as falling is done. down, only always
here’s a story. it may even be true. where i come from nothing ever sucks, so i
I just felt what I think I’ll feel always, once we’ve finally met, and share this cool space, like an open secr… It felt like all my favorite songs…
simply knowing you’re in a maze doesn’t get you out, but the fact is the foundation
if i stub my fucking toe it’s their fault so say i, and who could argue? you almost
love does not beat on doors, beg at tables. it is always
reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.
excuse me, i thought you were also the center of a fractal
oh, and how it gets you these bastard assumptions, one or two commonalities
god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.
Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.
shall we turn down the covers, crawl inside? find there a place that’s been waiting for us, a vortex of sorts
liking to say things, all kinds of things, mostly about the way things seem
shut my eyes and squeeze my demand, the point of a spear. what will happen.
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