Ode To The Night

How soft your voice, night. how shrill your cries in silence do echo around the emeralds my mother gave me to see through. melancholy sloth cradles me in your unholy arms, dark with nothing for me, dark with coal on my hands. it has been said, “Give me liberty or Give me death”, though I … Read moreOde To The Night

Nothing

The rain comes and goes. The days, too. I wonder at the trees, The ornate wild flowers … how have they never lost hope? It is forever lost and found … Much like forgiveness: Train rides to the edge of the earth Return on the Great Ocean Liners. All the while we’ve never gotten out … Read moreNothing

I want

I want it all,                         and why shouldn’t i?                         it is so sublime,                         only the insane would refuse. I want you!                         on a sunday afternoon,                         lazy in sunbeams                         while desert dunes whip. And when I go,                         I want you, bittersweet                         in empty sheets                         your voice still pure in my mind. We’ll sing on bridges                         to worlds … Read moreI want

the H in thank you

her voice is ghostly, breathy and light: No one has ever pronounced the “H” in Thank You before. And the softness, the gentleness: were it the voice of an inquisitor one might be inclined to tell life stories. The conversation is not important; they rarely are – but the kindness conveyed in her tone betrays … Read morethe H in thank you

schlachthof

Go & Fuck yourself … take all your love and shove it down my throat, then eat my liver. { everything is synthesized } { there was never anything } and still,         still!, 40 Million Butterflies are stolen by 40 thieves. Meat cleaver hands on ham hock arms silently begrudge the company … I make … Read moreschlachthof

Good Boy

do you see the hunger for your flesh? do you feel the desire that radiates from my being? why do we play such games? it, too often, feels like dogs rolling over, if there is a treat involved.

Soapbox Artist: collecting art & literature of the worst kind