From the 2019 Collection "2222"
#222 #2222 #comedy #existential #jmartindean
Which came first, the egg or the h… An old friend visits on the anniversary of his death— He finds a voice
If presented with the choice would the dinosaurs have allowed the asteroid or meteor to hit?
Hollow fang? Volcano. Cat’s purr? Hymnals. Intuition?
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—
The moon lulls me as I wade through poppy fields, dragging limp hands behind me, catching each pod long enough before it snaps upright again
This day, there is no ONE to beat your fist… No party, no tyrant, not even a faction—
There is a most worthy woman, the upper steward of the manor, Obermeyer of Holy Terra, house cute, smokestack simmering,
There was on my property an old gnarled stump, it was weathered and hardened, It was aesthetically pleasing as d… but I decided to take it to a spec…
When I see the little holes where the earrings used to be I wonder what they embraced and then renounced to get to now.
Ancient meadow preadolescence, burgeoning and righteous never-ending dimension first sighted past your fingertips… is stolen by ambition,
In Thirty-Four years I can count on two hands how many times I’ve been in my right mind. It is a small percentage.
I wept at the sight of my guru’s picture, Praise God, He is always with me, a Holy thing,
To be a ghost is to always be aghast— To not know which direction is the future or the past.
I saw him on the side of the road, on the side of the interstate exit… Maybe he was 18, definitely not 21… tired but not yet haggard. The moment I saw him