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

plenty more on that beautiful head of hers she’ll never even know it’s missing

all of my weary and all of my woe is made into perfect sense a common thread in my favorite son… familiar tones of sadness the beauty of malaise

his wings are lazy buzzing around the same pond a fly scared to change

seven years ago almost home coming over the bridge from a show in The Windy City we hit the ice

when the rest of the world seemed… and the invisibility of god was to… i turned to a puppet a stuffed brown dog i had named Gr… i confided in him earnestly

tailored finely to be worn proudly on the dance floor on the moon over top-shelf martinis over the rainbow

THE ARTIST constantly trying to get somewhere he

when she doesn’t love you the guts are pulled out from insid… life spills from the bones and your heart forgets to beat you become a ghost

i was born in a basket of apples out of place from the start always berated by questions like “where is your stem?” “why are you so round?”

when you don’t know for as long as i haven’t known you start to get used to it you don’t worry so much about solv…

for all the good of the day she sought the places where youths did play a few kind words to say a light to make her darkness grey

and death is spreading through the… violets are blue and the zombie in the mirror is me when the bones start