the inexact
the inexact language holds up a mirror cracked a willed error by a dogmatism backed a generosity of spirit lacked into the corner backed the
Category: Poetry
ten minutes extra
does ten minutes on the alarm do anything? i wake my bladder chimes in shortly after the cats are starving my wife moves to the
sit and shit
can’t sit how i used to can’t shit how i used to time has abused you past habits have fused you and youth has refused
anger poetry
anger poetry can get personal seems like a rehearsal and an almost reversal into something other than confrontation so comes the hesitation to write it
the things that make me unhappy
the things that make me unhappy are not the day by day things the trappings of routine they are usually the small unkindnesses thoughtless actions
in the pour
am i a glass pouring nothing? am i water waiting for a glass to contain me? or does it all happen when i am drunk?
red and blue tapeworms
there are records i listen to books i read but there are no politicians i feed like an infestation of fleas they should be picked