it was never my intention to clip… i was only trying to take a feathe… so that i would have something to… after you flew away

as summer wanes a chill comes about the air darkness replaces sunlight and the leaf loses it’s grasp upon… it cannot be blamed for its fall

on the surface you are correct he was an asshole a drunk maybe even

stopped by a red light engine sputters memories he goes with what’s gone

he keeps it bottled for days like these vintage destinies rush toward the… breaths of dead fruits inhale deep… and he drowns himself in their req…

i watch her lips purse around the top end of a cock… sucking up the last drops of a Can… setting the glass arm’s length awa… she lets the bartender see we need…

san francisco lesbian bitch pulls no punches tells you what it is

the darker the room the more I needed her she was scented with tobacco and cedar

the blade has always been dull how it was made never

i had most of the adults fooled the family was easiest they were none too bright what little smarts i had i must have got from my father

it misses the way we use to sit and breathe together inhaling and exhaling

when his jam comes on one second in an electric burst hits his gut he pulls his shoulders upright bites the left side of his bottom…

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

watching horror films on vhs with gramma saturday nights

his grin covered in melted chocola… his hands covered in blood and no one to stop him thieves are not running scared they are running the show