walking down the path that leads t… from 15th street i pass the same pothole that was t… twenty-two years ago as black and as deep as it was
it was the hottest new spot on the east side of course and of course
what I love about this country is the jazz and the blues and
tired of her obsessions insatiable outbursts of self dragging her around angst smothered mornings culminating into nightly carnivals…
when governments fall the power goes out and civilization is in the shamble… of its own undoing Uncle Dan has plenty of survival…
sunlight makes love to the earth an orgasm of photosynthesis from the heat of their passion tulips are born
this shirt screams “i’m not still fucked up from last…
i search each second find words under rocks and rugs looking for poems
when she wants only to see the heavens choke patience lost in all things
last seen at the brink of the abys… screaming at god laughing at the devil and smoking loose tobacco dark eyes and burnt skin
i walk as a storm two bolts of lightning in socks shoes laced with thunder
i would be excited to hold it tickle its little belly and watch it laugh if it cried i would search enthusiastically
i don’t believe anything i read unless it’s a poem
isolated Sunday bicycle rides tend to compel long winded speeche… character dialogues from stories i… and plenty of l’esprit d’escalier i speak with the dead
i would never say that Rock N’ Roll saved my soul but i will say that it helped me figure out what