art skin
a rhythm builds keith haring robots that sing basquiats into the paint who reproduce on a warhol bridge kept cool in a duchamp fridge not to be flushed the streets come alive pushing a pollock tide with dali melt inside a kandinsky…
Tag: writer
leavesdrop
to drop acid on a conversation to burn it to the ground i do not like the sound of this hate inside a labyrinth central figure on a plinth hat and badge and bullshit flag loop a chain around and drag drop…
grey dirt
cigarette burning down built in an ashtray it means little but a standing insult walking out of the room leaving an exclamation mark behind we have sat here amongst this elbows in tables staring across the room wondering where it leads why…
Between
Late night, early morning. And the push to write something. I am pushing really hard on it at the moment. I may not make it sometimes, especially with the stories lately, but I am keeping it pretty much in line. This is…
hang up
the coathanger inside i am clothes waiting for a pose what arose by any other name? there is a game that we are playing where we stand at the side saying be something long lasting not the typical casting heavy dice and…
Holding Onto The Stupid
A lot of my ideas come from stupid places. But you pause, look at it again, and you wonder where you might be able to take it and knock some of the stupid out of it. Sometimes the stupid is the genius,…
not the shadow
i will never tire of fuck yous to the imbeciles of hate who feel they can dish on the kids trying to shape the future from the cutouts of themselves dust gathers on the shelves i don’t want to be the shadow…
Momentum
Momentum is built with hard work. Hard work is built on regularity. You have to burn the candle at both ends. i think half of the stuff that I have done really has been done in the wee small hours, and by…
a reader
the need i read page-turners sentences that escape their boundaries slip through fingers enjambement slide i grab as many as i can stacked around, waiting i am never really contemplating not reading them half reading them each book marked i’m a reader,…
Monk E
The monk moved through the shattered temple, sparks rattling around his head like fireflies. He was mumbling something under his breath that context may have forced people to believe was a mantra or somesuch — it wasn’t … he was angry. War…