good bye

I dream of the daywhere life falls awayand the seconds pass so slowthe wind softly blowsoutside where we lie deeptogether as one, not two;I dream I’m not blue.I imagine you’re here,everything is gone but now,shadows dance along the wallsand you’re safe with meand I don’t grieve.I see a night not lost to emptinessand your hair … Read moregood bye

Lovers in the Morning

CLEO You woke up and asked me, “Tell me, are you randy?” I said no and your reply, “Good, neither am I.” made me wonder if you were awake at all of if it was simply a halucinatory call. GEORGE I’m sure it was how you remember. Though I often sleep so I can forget.

No Bullet in the Gun

words down drains in periodic impotence I won’t stop these dreams of greatness and gutters beholding treasure and fortunes in the currency of experience, but I wonder at the exchange rate this transaction -cold and unfeeling imposes on my soul where things priceless have spent their lives carving out names for those memories that have … Read moreNo Bullet in the Gun

mother fuckers

When I placed it on the bar I left with trust in my heart. When I returned, I lost a part of my soul. Where did my oblivion go? O, Salvation, who has you? I know I’ve made a deal with 2 devils         one says I can         one says I can’t. Fuck the both of … Read moremother fuckers

Metro Poetry III

Russian Inconsequence perhaps the Ukraine A black sea of love with a foreign name. There, see, she smiled probably not at me But with an oz. of luck I’ll be an extra in her dreams.

metro poetry I

Yoga mat destinations toe ring decorative walk. And flannel that is not   (it is summer, after all) Red Sox iPods Red Topped love. Curls to bounce… my enwrapped heart. Imaginary voices to tell me of shuttles and elevators to god. Everyone is beautiful @ 10 AM no Hangovers, no Fights no screaming last night. Yoga’s … Read moremetro poetry I

role calls

the things I want aren’t behind the bar but the things that I need are. role call:         oblivion, are you here?         Stupor – ok.         memory loss – good, glad to see you.         control – Excellent. We didn’t want you anyway.         If social sensibilities are here, please leave now.         numb? Numbness? Are you here? goddamnit, numbness … Read morerole calls

Soapbox Artist: collecting art & literature of the worst kind