reap port
a new story a news story a we knew story a we’re blue story multi-stories parked above the grave of aplomb a headline a byline a bomb some days you just wish all the reporting was gone
Category: Poetry
knowstalgia
those frozen moments nostalgia sepia they creep in seep deeper hold you hostage like a dream caught in the fade before dawn wakes into day the hands are static the action automatic the pause held like a dancing moment you seek them…
flight
unzip the skin suit drop it in the trash the moment you dash out through the crash of the wave that washes you into the grave or at least the flesh and then you rise fresh like a weight of breath to…
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 overpainted image dead a hack writer over an exquisite corpse hacked an earworm burrowed into your head…
misty
it’s a cold morning you can hold your breath a mist bank moving giving shape to an easy dream it hangs like a photo on a milk wall stood dreaming it alone in a room full of people crows fly straight roman…
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 shower because it takes her longer and i dig into that margin of comfort just deep enough…
the one
if you believe the one you love is the better person you have to at least do nothing to worsen their life but when you look in their eyes you know they feel the same about you personal pain is a filter…
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 you access to the fountain the inverse mountain underneath where the old mans sits and where the…
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 this thing: you invite it do you even want to fight it? rebellion has always been against…
ungry
suck down food you starving fuck dog outside, hit by truck fortune cookie asexual bookie says, just your luck there are no ladies left under neon lights on chip paper street near cigarette gutter testing gravity with bread and butter we were…