jacob erin-cilberto > Writing | WritersCafe.org

as thyself.... splintered religion and i am still picking at the wooden cross embedded in my soul my heart spent its pr..

it's in the splatter... sinister collaboration thoughts in confused reticence like devious gnomes adhere to reckless keys ..

soaring aground when splashdown occurs no will to encumber afterthoughts the writing survives one way or another capsulized..

landing beside the beer nuts working man's blues hip boots, not shoes pit of despair, he's digging in and out white collars ..

some always unfinished business to Frank O'Hara with warm regards regarding that common figment in our imaginations, the mo..

pouring empty pages into dusk there was a headline back in '69 two dead in a flat in London Sylvia's shadow and her only ray o..

previously posted work...revised...

some correlation years removed from Fitzroy Road... Sylvia, maybe we would have gotten along splendidly i think your words ..

thanks to Chris for the inspiration for this one.

soaked in festive foreclosure a rosary book and a shadow catcher holy water blues the young boy trips on his Our Fathers and wo..