brief landings never fool me my thoughts are made of tornadoes and I know the mind will never sit… “where the heart is” is the name of a bullshit map

when the neighbors would bang on t… screaming through them telling him to stop for the love of god it is three in the morning

we all trip over our own comfort and wherever we land is the lie we build a home on whatever love is we only do it when we have to

I cannot be cast under any moon, upon any soul. If not for her,

what I love about this country is the jazz and the blues and

misgivings of tide familiar qualm of the sea home where we are lost

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

there once was a drop of water misplaced in the ocean that was meant for something more never belonging with other drops lost at sea

if the fairy spreads her thighs for the goblins finger the happy ending never comes even if she does

my body is not a temple it is more like a corner bar in Wisconsin kneeling

monuments of song returned to life in my hands records from dead men

he came out of the New Orleans shadows first went the grocer and

disregarded flesh from abattoir to your plate feeding dominion

Women were placed at the flames, accused of witchcraft, and the smoke of murder rose to the heavens. Man’s ignorant spirit bursting up to the gods, as if they didn’t already know how vi...

sunlight makes love to the earth an orgasm of photosynthesis from the heat of their passion tulips are born