tired of her obsessions insatiable outbursts of self dragging her around angst smothered mornings culminating into nightly carnivals…
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
the next one in the holder on the… can barely contain itself one corner is already protruding hoping like hell that when she finishes her burrito
she always turns a light on when she thinks of me checks under the bed to see if i left behind a kiss
dying to stay in tune they rattle eagerly to play one last song
put a million miles between me and… shoes worn away from the journey i will arrive with toes calloused feet stained in earth and legs swollen
was afraid of heights until i looked at my back and saw i have wings
i walk as a storm two bolts of lightning in socks shoes laced with thunder
our savings accounts cry out for m… but we only have so much to give coins jingling away in the pocket a few dirty fives in the wallet the shelves are in need of grocery
two mountains hanker to reach across the valley always between them
I cannot be cast under any moon, upon any soul. If not for her,
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
i can smell a clue about as well as a rock and if you’re waiting for me under a rock
on a night back in 1998 at the 24 hour Happy Chef diner in Fort Dodge, Iowa when both of us were drunk and stoned
joyless carnival merry-go-rounds of a troubled mind the amusement of fright and despair
