I told myself I would write but there’s nothing to say the whore at my core says to go fuck something but I don’t have what it takes to go to war today the sun goes dark in the park I watch and wait for the Hand of God to crush all of this disease into a neutron star I don’t think he will but I must be patient ’cause I do not think he’s far ponder push plush plundering pulverizing prideful personal passions preponderant, perforation pleasures pause, pun, passive in passing puking porous published politics please, prequel perplexing Pacmans … Continue reading E, clip, see
dismember the concepts in valleys of unrest set norm of forgotten line of sight vision sights are surreal in abstract light sound of soiled years in confusion elapsed time cherry wood-worked mind maturing sin, a disease of nation application hardware stand still destruction Tuesday afternoon appointment Hating the looks of genetic makeup casual violence deed done relapse synapse studio apartment penthouse playhouse yuppie bimbo make-believe with perfect score SAT Brexit, stage left… must you leave so soon? In a rush Irish? morning traffic Russian ants on paved trail army of disembodied disciples voyeur Templars of diamond age destiny wholly opinionated … Continue reading Lamron Efil
we are the violent. Cast aside permissions like the breath of early bedroom encounters. her name would be fire if you could capture in a language, but no tongue on earth can hold the meaning. It flows like water over toes and under skin, sinking into pores as a cleansing salt; charcoal scrub both burns and purifies. You find us in quiet hours when you’re alone and no one is around, all those secret fetishes that come unbound. We daze new wave, shoegaze, everything we see we want to feed on. itching that all need scratches, Destiny and me wish … Continue reading we are the violent
I must be defeated ’cause I can feel it in my feet. they won’t move so that must prove something. beauty in the eye of the beholder is much colder when beauty is the destroyer of I would cry but it doesn’t make a difference to this indifferent wraith admiring my corpse. match-stick make-up of a broken bodied discourse on the arrival of final days of my time here. melt into the spring sun and whisper of devolutions in this archetype of feelings that armored our champions. the blood on the pavement is same in color as the one in … Continue reading These feet
Quid pro quo Clarice. The money is gone up your nose. Pip pop tip-top running rabid sideways on the sidewalks singing kill kill kill the poor along with Biafra. Paint them taking tainted terror and feeding the pretty demons. Gift the shift of religion to the little lambs you are recounting the sordid legend of political Zelda for. See the whites of their eyes and frown down upon the frailty. My finger gun blasts a hole in your understanding as you sit shaking out the burnings we’re too cowardly to give a name to. Ascertain the relevant odd job backlog … Continue reading Quid Pro Quo
pageant of ministry your misgivings given to sullen star-clad nonchalant Comings and goings Imprint upon us, this living I do not want what you wear as I no longer care to displace, yours or mine, this distaste, take a masque fitted on face, misplaced here is no longer safe I can no longer call you home. timeworn tellings, erode, peel story lost its’ appeal cold iron piercing will not heal maniacal raving sounds to my ear as though you are leaving. dear one, hold onto your throne as I extract this fire from bone I am alone. always Always, a … Continue reading elemental, hollow.
it never was how you know Lord sees your side ways backslapping, fools errand running in whiteout conditioning grace to meet maker’s storybook end. all of it was for naught nothing but pyrite misfire echoes a face unforgivable, forgotten by time falling sand in a glass blown into being by lips of godless song hovering above a happening it felt like something we do not have words for. it never was what you see always what you feel at the center. start a heart, extinguish a breath you have kept secrets. Lord’s mercy don’t mean payment won’t be due. now … Continue reading none of us