As far as the eye can see— Limitless blue nowhere to be found.

Hollow fang? Volcano. Cat’s purr? Hymnals. Intuition?

The Rock made me to see each month as a day. The Rock implored that I be patie… with a patience so radical it slips into renunciation

I have this sensation when remembering the poignant noteworthy moments, Lovers, the Dead, crimes—

Needless of a judge, a contrite heart is a bird suspended on a current, shifting myriad planes without asking or telling.

Just leave the fucking flags at ha… Or half-staff. Or whatever it’s called. Just fucking leave them there.

Every once in a while, when my bunkmates are asleep (or at least I hope they are), and the jingle of the keys fades to the end of the hall,

In your gut is an empire— Spells, tug of war, Holy Days, ascent, decline.

Think you’re doing something? Thing you’ve got some power? You can walk on coals, swallow poison and live, but who is at the helm

I would lie with my hand on the B… I would lie with my hand on a stac… of Holy Qurans. I would look you dead-in-the-eye, and tell you a lie.

Ten days secluded now, improper and unshaven inside a black and gold hole, dope den of sultry sound and opiate mood.

Upon that special mound there is a cleanliness, a purity sanctimonious, something so perfect it’s numerological—

One of God’s tricks is, similar to Michael Jordan, It sinks a three-pointer with 1.2 seconds left on the clock,

Walking lakeside, I try to discern what the frogs a… but their drone is one collective… Diving again and again after the secret,

When I see the little holes where the earrings used to be I wonder what they embraced and then renounced to get to now.