Coffee, After so Long

"How's tricks, Old Man?" "You, kid, you can eat a dick as they say. I may be hardened from alcohol but I am in no way old; age doesn't push the wrinkles into your face, it slows your body down enough on the inside to wrinkle you on the outside or it soaks you with … Continue reading Coffee, After so Long


Days of Silence

it's all lost glue and peanut butter the cat ran away with it it's been bitten mouth to mouth Heimlich Maneuver CPR Certified purple lipped finger under nose I rub my cheek feeling the hollowed out cave where it used to sit existing in a rotating desk chair pinched between two incisors all business until … Continue reading Days of Silence

Apollo on Saturday Nights

dark soul ruminating through quiet amber bulbs the humming of the air purifier a city that requires payment to park anything anywhere your car on this asphalt your ass on this chair the muted trumpet should be playing and somewhere off of fifth you hear it echo from down the concrete steps somewhere smoky[you know … Continue reading Apollo on Saturday Nights

June 29, 2017

that thinking thing (noun) that twitchy thought (noun) dark loop (verb) a strand of black hair fivefourthreetwoone (bast off) oxygen gasoline that we breathe our world (noun) exists (verb) in impurity (adjective) we must in order to survive (verb) Survival (noun) must be unclean (adjective) THROW (θɹoʊ): n. a light cover for furniture; in some … Continue reading June 29, 2017

Any God Given Day, 2017

He looks to reality Up from ice and pressed bean the swipe the swipe the swipe less and less and less nothing truly there only a number slowly counting down from imagination to movement the slide to the empty well what is an existence anymore day day day earth flat or round no exploration all … Continue reading Any God Given Day, 2017

Over Thought Over

Trying to break down the patterns of the mind, the looping, reeling, wall of thoughts, that which builds up. I often see patterns in my writing, the looping, looping, loops, curlicues, even now with this pen to paper, paper and pen and paper and pen and paper and pen and paper and pen, I see … Continue reading Over Thought Over

Smelling Smoke

Lost, somewhere among the crashing and burning of the forest, Far off from my apartment on Meadows but you can smell the smoke over the flowers and the clumps of long-stemmed grass. Far gone, lost to dreams and paintings, Summer burning away everything, Apollo too close to sage, an attempt to naturally pull more carbon … Continue reading Smelling Smoke

Ash (or “Shy Boy”)

I wish the words would spill out sand crashing from the oversized hourglass of my shattered mouth my teeth so many shards that I can't quite let you put your finger on; possible that it would or could pad the way from the cuts across my tongue words are sharp teeth and bits of rock, … Continue reading Ash (or “Shy Boy”)