Prison Projects

What I learned about love from my dog was simple. Just love, and if it stops, cower in the corner until the door opens.

That fucked up smileis the same asMarnie’sat the 8th gradeend-of-the-yearschool dance.I fell in lovewith her courage -in a short skirton my lap,she was genius.

if I could,i’d join throngsof Little Hitlersdiscussing thepossibilitiesof a pointlessbut still meaningfulexistence.

should i not live the resistance of prose or believe in the salvation of Parisian Orgies? Shall we not mute our minds’ deafening shrieking drilling into the hearts of men lost to the teeth of hell hounds, with all things that can mute such treasures? should i not rejoice in the rejection of sanity that … Read morehow shall

fuck. shit. fuck shit. it’s come again. nagging voices, uncertainty, doubt masquerading as sadness. it comes in rays of sunshine through slatted blinds and soft tendrils of hair left on my pillows to be stared at like a 2 headed cat. You can’t keep everyone from knowing just how much you can’t hide from yourself … Read morefuck shit

I won’t look at you. Will not. Will not want. You. Your eyes will not see me. Can not. Can not desire. Me.

it is not your serene beauty, nor your agility in kindness; it is not your elegant dignity nor the way in which you say, no too quickly for me to protest. what, then, is it, that makes me want for you flower petals under your feet: the Buddha’s own grace? is it that i am … Read moreHow Did You Get In Here?

there is a heaven with 1920’s movie stars, glasses – sunglasses – to hide behind so no one knows it’s them; a tourniquet for the mind that only covers hair. going crazy like they go shopping day in and day out until the voices that said “you ain’t worth a shit” lie dormant in seas: … Read morescribbles of the dead

I wonder when the lights go out and she rolls over to have me, are the lights out for her shame, or for my wretchedness?

Where I walk, I have left breadcrumbs of desires to be eaten by the cooing love birds that have followed me all my days, guiding me with their soulful moans of pleasure each provides the other. These journeys are never intentional, but fateful: a destiny of preordained flights to land in the midst of love. … Read moreLove’s Breadcrumbs