did I ever say I was “good people”?

some days I miss the hasty shouting

the crack of fist on salted cheekbones

better that than the nauseous choice

of considered upholstery or designer phones

never weather appropriate, rather, accident

ripped and bleeding, waiting for some other

and days my head will fill with men of war

always in shock yet mostly in awe

a...

Read and leave comments (3)

as the dew dropped tulip two-steps over my tongue

so a pubic slaughter of moonbeams and drag queens

leaves so little space in-between the longing

hung, low slung, below the eaves of this curious abode

where pregnant questions await the gaunt relief

of a crucified thief who has chosen his flavour

so sure the house has fallen on the queen of the east

love thy nei...

Read and leave comments (0)