|
For Juliet
|
|
The cracks in my hands are black -
As I mourn everything you once were.
The fireplace is sunk in ash,
All clocks have struck dead -
Our house pale..
|
|
A report is coming in that a large amount of poetry has been
found dead.
The poetry was found near Parliament Hill Fields early this
morning ..
|
|
Man is flawed.
His dead soul replete of shade.
The physical, a Brechtian outsider -
Spits, talks to audience naked
But for bloody ankles,
..
|
|
Bloody cankerous psyche, shifting from one
Black lap of scrutiny, piercing,
To the lucid shriek of the altar -
To the sluice.
Flooded..
|
|
Bursting, I thud onto the fullest of all pathways -Near empty room with only dust, blank walls,Sealed porch, square built.In my yard, rain drenches an..
|
|
Dedicated with love to Wichita, Kansas, to pregnant women everywhere, and to my mom -
|
|
A skinny colorless drained soulThat spits out nothing keeps a constantJoyful stasis, notAsking for anything.A skinny colorless drained soulRefutes the..
|
|
Shelled, cratered. My structure obliterated.
Hurt hard for flailing. I want you.
A simple thrall, I would wear. Sticky picks do not stick -
I..
|
|
Dedicated to Icaros13 -
|
|
|