Progression or depression, it depends on the portends. But never regression.

Humanity is a tired, jaded, dirty face with bright

Look, the moon is out! It’s almost full moon. But it’s midday, the moon’s not su… Go away moon!

Yellow-green leaves lie still Upon the concrete ground. Cars are parked, People are sparse; It is the afternoon.

I have that swipe keyboard on my phone where I draw a line between the letters to write the w… Sometimes, it mistakes the word

I can see you’re still bleeding. I would like to dress your wound, my wound. In my haste I now realize, I bleed too.

Yet I use it all the time. The weather? Check my phone. The time? Check my phone. Calendar? Check my phone. How many people died today? Check my phone. It’s so exhausting. Everything ha...

Is it too much to ask for, The self being contained Under the snow of your eyes Reaching out, never quite grasping The height of the situation.

Around her neck Hangs an emerald line, Dotted with sun-facing flowers; Silky smooth, speaks her mind. This line brings this poet

The words, the hate Flies, no, spurts Out of your dull mind Faster than comprehension Allows you to filter,

Ah, my sincerest apologies. I have a tendency to drop dead In front of gorgeous women.

Smile at me you vixen, melt me and step your red stiletto in the puddle,

I shot the president and he melted into a pool of ice cream. Yummy!