Of course there are the stereotypes that we fill every capsule that we are given that we assume the boundaries of our life what we are poured into we are contained by; that when we flow freely, we cleanse and take with us that which is impure allowing it to be in us, not of … Continue reading 75% Human
let me tell you let me tell you let me tell you diving into words deep into the phrases what resides somewhere within the true quiet morphemes and thinking now of a man who communicates with his hands told me a story once of a conference that he went to sitting among hundreds of other … Continue reading Shouting With Hands
The kiss on my cheek, I lay quiet, pulling the heavy duvet over my crunched body becoming something more of a bean than a being: and soft and soft and soft and soft all four quickly in succession across the thin, David Bowie shape of my jaw it's impossible to tell which is what or … Continue reading Kiss (x4)
This hunky poem is for the Dads The daddyos The "yes, Sir"'s The Papa Bears The "Let me show you how it's done"'s The "Pull my finger"'s The "Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick"'s The sharp crack of a tall can of Keystone Ice and the low groan, easing into … Continue reading For The Fathers…
via Daily Prompt: Blossom Standing in the locker room waiting for it all to hush fabric rubbing tightly against arms there's no way in hell this shit is a towel Maybe it could pass for a thin, white brillo pad; arms sawdust, chest hurricane, kneecaps slowly turning marble; exhalation; thoughts slow, water falls infinitely, imagining … Continue reading Blossom
Six hours in, five and a half make seventy five and they take a fraction of that the end of the year, everything added up, waiting to see what you were overcharged or not. It's all one big game because someone owns your ass someone owns your land your food your kids your clothes you … Continue reading Time Spent
Nothing is there I'm just sitting, waiting to hear your damned drunken voice the grasp of years spent sucking down thousands of cigarettes and hundreds of gallons of red wine the tannins sucking your mouth into a tight circle the cigarettes folding your vocal folds following the rule of seven seven folds and that is … Continue reading Nothing.
It's the comedown of it all. the after splash, falling back, air rushing out of faux down, feeling the thought rush in, remembering that sweat is a response to heat not a cause of it. That natural occurrences are sometimes all that are needed to peel our psyche away from the glass of existence and … Continue reading What’s Beautiful
via Daily Prompt I can hear it all ticking and flowing back to me as if in the quiet moments it was lost and now with each puff and every swig the burn on the soft palette that I know scars permanently, like an invisible tattoo that I trace silently with the tip of my … Continue reading Timely
I’m feeling for it, looking for the patterns in the light between the objects something reminiscent of what used to be there as if an old coke can once stood proudly on the countertop and now is crushed melted recycled; I’m staring through the air through some sort of void seeing your fear permeate the … Continue reading Eye Contact
