as her eyes broke open most of it washed away in a dry wave of consciousness there were a few drops left near the corners of her botto…
you drag a soul around in a body and some nights it’s a bag of bricks wondering if there’s anything left to dream for
visceral were the nights we stood… each of us armed with an instrumen… and hearts that beat like tempos we put on a show but we weren’t put-ons
walking down Rundberg a gentleman of the homeless junkie… approaches me from ahead “hey mayne ima be hones wischu
Deep in The Milky Way they will meet again. Reflections, and shadows. Never-ending satellites crashing into never-ending stars.
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
do not weep when the bird flies aw… from your window sill be grateful that it ever landed th… even if just for a moment
now when I say “forever” I don’t mean too
sparks fly when you put a couple forks in the microwave too
shame of the ocean is the fish that crawled on land evolved to destroy
i don’t believe anything i read unless it’s a poem
the best shelf in town bartenders driving the drunks home
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
the crowd is divisive full of bickering ideologies and overstimulated thoughts of what makes us different we lose sight of the fact
for one minute my clock dreamed of infinity forever stood still in a timeless moment hidden from death and deadlines