screaming at low volumes
When I realized I could understand german, the voices only made me sad. So I thought I’d learn french, but it’s sadder even than german. I already knew about portuguese: a wonder they haven’t all murdered themselves yet. Is there a language that doesn’t know sadness?
I could fix a lot of things here. The stove now works with all burners. The toilet seat could be replaced, things to paint, water damage … There are a lot of things to fix, but I’ve given up fixing me. So I keep the faith that one day, in fable beauty, someone will fix … Read moreBroken
You flowers of Reprieve, Respite from the battles. You spectacular reflections of divine love, How blessed am I, standing in your presence? Were that I could be a drop of rain upon your petals, a gentle kiss before the sun would take me. But I can only admire your form and colors, so freely given; … Read moreI Never Deserved
I asked if this bar gives credit. Bartender asked, “Why?” “It’s a sign,” I said, “Of a decent bar. You know, one that’s out to sedate the pain of being human, not to capitalize on it.” “Oh,” she said, “No.” At closing time, she said, “I hope to see you tomorrow.” A capitalist’s love never … Read moreClosing Time
Little humans so useless, still so valuable; Depreciating by the moment until they are Full Grown Burdens.
September came and went – Our sins were the clues that October had to follow. and the loves on the floor – great bodies, all of them – were too much for November, collapsing to its knees, Bloody Hands raised up to the gods of Time … “One More Time”, we said.
there was a moment when I thought we were going to die and I was happy.
In the garden, war rages; strategy & tactics, the unkraut wear the enemies Uniform, while the ever neutral Sunflower grows where it likes. The Colorado beetles crumble between fingertips – The Convention on Humanity demands they die humane deaths else the potatoes suffer a similar fate at their hands. why would Colorado export such fiends? … Read moreIn The Garden
and what shall be your great reward? Failure? more and more failure? unable to handle the reigns handed you? For what should you be rewarded? allow your self be drawn in, with pillow-talk so Pius, over beers erecting platforms to hang from? Is this the great deed to be rewarded? Nearly beg for your own … Read moremaybe fucking think for a second next time
Dislocations: running over sharp stones, arm dangling from the elbow, flapping about like a scarf in the wind. it didn’t hurt, then. the way the voices pool, collecting in the soul – they didn’t hurt, then. oh, but had i killed one thousand men … i might have the courage to become one of them. … Read moreTrauma Poems