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

elemental, hollow.

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.

Future is the past is the future past

two moons and two suns implications of movement abrasive, heaving of iron lungs implicit in the breathing archetypes assail conclusion finding is desolate and broken desensitized neuromancer weave cords of copper a burglar is re-imagined smoking jacket highs confounding orbs can no longer absorb refraction of everything now only comes in pieces cement is colder than one would think flood is more than earth can drink when did life become a story with such furious editors retake the scenes reality indebted to shadowed creditors no longer aware which of us won. in-between two moons and two suns image courtesy of … Continue reading Future is the past is the future past

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

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. the itching that all need scratches, Destiny and me … Continue reading we are the violent

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

where?

fetching, impetious impetus for wine horizons bless’ed or become prey infectious, intelligence it doesn’t matter what you’ve got on you can claim me imperious, impervious scrape back the foam Turkish coffee grit showing in smiles all around blue filter-light integral to this scorn that adorns features of a rag-a-bone man playing take me home on his gramophone I watch you shift, cloudless pleased to be pleasing all the lush bastard boys hanging out on patios Camels and Coors…. I laugh about your arrogance sigh reverence satin speak crawls into the nape of my neck I shudder, chills, delight where will … Continue reading where?