low

vertical, this vertigo pulling at lips dusky corners, beseeching. hand-me-down run-around doe eyes, darkness. timber, pine cinders wind the clock upon mantle counting time since before war or two for me, you. This diffidence is feral, infantile. Claim the field reddening grasses tattered flags, satin. linen you lie in hyperbole distance color of indigo weeping softly, so soft, as to capture whisper fine mesh chinois filter sound to only meaning. sagging braggadocio quiet politicos sign double entendre. Where now will your breath go? keep it slow. ever, ever so very low.   image courtesy of Pinterest         Continue reading low

Come, come no closer

Comes and goes, this human condition in form of song and arrows scatterglass and primrose. Forgotten lessons relearn’ed all fears made soluble saline, and erosion last one to be saved find death in memory live with dying entente trace sacred promises in condensation upon windows and doors faces and floors caught with naught, except misspellings, condemnation a wolf howls pain wolves howl our names wind knows our shame in caricature, above windowpane rain is always cold hear, chanting chittering how do we survive malaise and madness copper burning, obstruction swollen knuckles whiten holding on for, oh dear striving for knives’ … Continue reading Come, come no closer

none of us

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

Promethean

I’m cold as rain Pain is my home this sound of Armageddon grey tremors abound feeling for some meaning as we watch eclipse Pain is my home sun is in the sky there is a roof over my head and a tomb in which I lie It drips icicles of fire into my veins and I lay upon a pyre breathe in my smoking remains Pain is my home hither it comes, tearing me down I feel it again recourse in your gaze we acquiesce to fear and what’s to be highlands awash with our regrets weather comes crashing in … Continue reading Promethean

we are the violent

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

Solemn Zeros

In summary, there was purpose prefecture, pandemonium, permanence fingers frayed stitching ignominious example in grocery-cart aisles uncommon disorders frequently populating God-deserted isles unexpectedly, the vase fell from table untouched it shattered flowers and pottery scattered across the floor as galaxies flowed into void This was all observed and information was documented, annotated. interpretation lost in antiquity, impressions ripple as a neutron star quietly sending out gravitational waves, confusing possibilities of other extents. so often, life will take what we think we know reduce it to a solemn zero; leave us with nothing other than faintest of ideas a notion of … Continue reading Solemn Zeros

Quid Pro Quo

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