she always turns a light on when she thinks of me checks under the bed to see if i left behind a kiss

i entered into my junior high poet… with such a sense of excitement to share the craft that i had disc… just a couple years earlier a craft that my gramma had

fallen from the nest mother bird leaves me to die never to take flight

still he saws at the legs of his Steinway old habits only die hard so he tickles the ivory cigarette hanging from his lips

my knee is there if i need to bend my leg my knee is not there for me to beg if you place an empty plate in fro…

i am the one most concerned with popularity found my way into castles to meet with kings and queens crashed parties with celebrities

early this morning fresh was the only way we could imagine ourselves soft to the teeth

at odds with the sky I have rid myself of every feather and with my beak i have chewed off… of my wings if i am to see my dreams die

I keep coming back just when ya think “there is no

there she was again in my dreams last night perhaps it is faulty programming a virus or malware but for whatever reason

two mountains hanker to reach across the valley always between them

i am my own ghost i am haunted

when at war for so long peace becomes an awkward conflict so you keep fighting

no matter how damned everything is i keep a flower in my coffin to remind myself that the sun still offers me something