by Poetry

it would be nice      I think it would be nice
to pretend that all this pain      is purely for you
romantic in our fucked up way      how fucked we
have always been      it comes now to romance
and something like love      truth is I was hurting & hurting myself
long before you came along      hurting myself even
while you’ve been in me      I don’t think you’ve felt it
I hope you haven’t felt it      I’m sorry if you have
truth is I’ll keep on      hurting
when you finally extricate yourself      naked and dripping
what little there is left of me      what shackles spider web tendons
heavy bone links      & this fat flesh
must appear to the wind      as you are
the wind

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Talkin’ Bouquet Blues

roses are only beautiful because
they are weak
& you are not weak
but filled with the ghosts of a thousand lover’s bowers
you have outlived a thousand roses

Hollowed Out

You hollowed me out and lived in my skin.
When I opened my eyes, it wasn’t me looking out…


I think, tonight, I’m going to drink until I’m angry enough to fuck someone who isn’t me. I’m going to put songs that nobody knows on the jukebox and I’m the only one singing along to broken folk, rapist’s rap and Christian rock. And I’ll probably walk home alone,...

Finding Life Prosaic

fingers bleeding prosaic, money
to clog arteries and veins,
to quell the rise and flow of