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

the Allen Bradley Tower clock looks at me like an all knowing ey… it tells me “you are home you were not born here

it’s been so long without a touch lips pressed deeply against mine fingers brushing through my beard… i have reclaimed my virginity bumbling and nervous in the presen…

sound becomes idea phenomenon of music as to hear a soul

for wars not fought and battles not waged axes that fell from the hands of warriors

he speaks to me through early Alic… only with darkness does light shine and

Charles with his typewriter and bottles a bluebird held hostage in his hea… all the women he wanted all the jobs he didn’t

the best shelf in town bartenders driving the drunks home

Once I was a psychopath who took quite a shine to his ax. Many times I’d leave a blood bath… but meticulously clean, and particularly keen,

i walk as a storm two bolts of lightning in socks shoes laced with thunder

in third grade i confessed to my c… i didn’t know who Joe Montana was because i didn’t watch football the boys were quick to emasculate… and i was ready to punch their lig…

it’s just the memory of the sky blue and maybe it only seemed so blue because it was the first time i no…

slippery bars make it hard to hold… captive against your will always lathered in the sweat of es… you elude any sentence

i have to take my fair share of th… loved this song from the moment i heard it and shouldn’t be surprised that she loved it too

every drum in the world pales to the bang the crash the beat of her