The smell of sex and stale cigarettes, Two bodies connected in life and death, Chapped lips meet between the sheets, Lust in our bones, the Reaper in the air. How rare an oxymoron, neither with clothes on, We follow recreation with deadly inhalation, Skin touching skin, lips wrapped around uncertainty, Two separate entities leaned inwards somehow gently, Feeling so alive, ...

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Hit the homes of the less, Hit the SCUM of the projects, Drop a few bombs in the Sub Culture Urban Market, target the future smokers, smoke the future dealers, pull up in them vans, hand out vans and a few packs of cigs, Fact 79 the name of the game, selling the idea of a pack newports, over the idea of packing for cruises to lands on new ports, grandmamas got them, baby cousins watchin', second h...

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From Virginia

He sat and watched them

draw from pipes of bone and clay,

eyes closed in peaceful

meditation. Cast in clouds

of bittersweet transcendence.

I sat and watched him

turn into a hollow man,

wrapped in shrouds of grey.

His constant, shuddering, barks

cough your epitaph, Raleigh.

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