Oh medium garlic grilled chicken wings,
two short of a dozen.
You arrive with ranch—and an extra ranch
because the female bartender knows I am hungry
and I am not self-conscious.
I am ready for you, my petite poulets.
I rip into you feral, like a starving mother possum—
flesh, bone, weird little veins,
gnawing and *******
Sauce on my wrists, ranch under my nails,
fingers perfectly soiled in sticky perfection.
This is not a meal; it is a perimeter.
Men sense it. They stay back.
Protected by grease and tooth and bones,
I am in my bubble of tyranny.
Let them fear the licking of the fingers,
the ten ***** napkins piled on my plate,
the hot sauce in the corner of my mouth.
You, my wings—my snack, my shield
my mess, my sisters.
I curtsey to you and our beautiful courtship.
Dec 28, 2025
Dec 28, 2025 at 7:54 PM UTC
It was as if her soul
left her body
that first night
she danced.
Nothing left—
nothing left—
she rubbed up against strangers
like a wet, feral cat
who wants to come in
from the rain.
She let her fingers glide
along the veins
of the twistee treats,
pulsing
in her palm.
Picka vine, Jane—
you’re the queen
of the jungle—
swing!
Can I just wrap myself here?
Twirl my tongue
all the way up
to your neck?
Give you a love bite,
a love bite,
to remember me by?
Look at me—
Slow blinking back behind
Boarded-up eyes
what do you see, daddy?
Up my skirt
on the mirrored dance floor,
soon to cream and flip
These ******* inside out
in a metal bathroom stall—
dented walls,
and something to
something to-
to hang onto.
C’mon, baby you wanna dance?
Dec 28, 2025
Dec 28, 2025 at 4:07 PM UTC
It’s the time for tears—
not thoughts,
not prayers,
not anger
tears.
And then tomorrow,
or tomorrow’s tomorrow,
in a chord of vision,
when shards of cold light
pierce the clean glass,
and we will be able
to look out again
at this new world.
Oct 26, 2025
Oct 26, 2025 at 5:37 PM UTC
In my house of grey scales
hides
a mollusk of a woman
doomed to float,
lights on lights off,
driven only by
primitive nerves
an animal body of sensation
Poison to touch
her loving embrace,
entanglement,
a stunning killer and
eyeless
for to see would be to recognize
the Self loathing that only
a predator feels.
And so the rhythms
Of the boundless sea
push me-
an eternity
of cowardice
toward death.
Up and down, up and down
up and down, up and down
Oct 20, 2025
Oct 20, 2025 at 2:41 PM UTC
You’ve got a hole
burned through your nose.
You snorted it,
mixed it, lit it,
smoked it off foil.
You spent it all
on bag after bag—
white powder,
dust.
Now dissolved.
You couldn’t get through the day
without the high—
sweating, serving, mopping, cleaning,
smiling, eye contact—
You burned a hole in your nose.
You sniff, you snort, you snore,
and when you swallow it tastes like,
and when I kiss you it tastes like
******* on an aspirin—
chemical,
bleach,
poison.
You send your two-year-old
bags for his ***** diapers,
and you buy bags to keep
yourself going.
Oct 17, 2025
Oct 17, 2025 at 7:05 PM UTC
It was cold and raining
and there was a foot of water
in the grave already
as the coffin was lowered down.
And she thought-
**** this isn’t how I wanted it to go.
But
it just was.
Oct 17, 2025
Oct 17, 2025 at 12:20 AM UTC
This building's
Miss Something
Buildings that deny her
This
Miss Panting
Effectiveness of a new drug
I couldn't,
in my distrust of metaphors,
Rehearse death.
Spring -
we're so adamant to be heard.
Similar melodrama,
my workplace,
wishful thinking of privacy and solitude,
Dissolved in water.
Sympathetic,
once ambitious or greedy,
artists with their mental illness.
I saw on the last blank page
scribbling -
only memories mattered: dreams.
Oct 16, 2025
Oct 16, 2025 at 8:53 PM UTC
Do you know when I fell in love with the man?
When I watched him swimming in the sea
When I sat with him while he listened to his grandmother
When I hung out with him and his sisters on the beach
When I gave him space to place a stone on his mothers grave
When he rode with the dog in his truck with the windows down
And spooned the cat on the couch
And played guitar hidden behind the tree branch the whole time.
When he cut his hands on the oyster knife because he was drunk but had to pretend he wasn’t
When he made me a funny Valentine’s Day card
When he shingled my girlfriend’s house
When he brought me coffee the way I like it
When he drank the orange juice that we called the “nectar” out of the carton
When he made scrambled eggs and potatoes
When he hugged his dad at his wedding
When he kept smoking even after I nagged him to quit
And wore my deodorant and my t shirts and stole my socks
When he sent me that photo of his bad sunburn in Perth
When he had food poisoning and wouldn’t let anyone else see him
When he wrote me a silly song on my birthday that was actually really good
When we slow danced to cheesy country songs because I like to
When I put him down as my emergency contact because I know no one else has got me like that-
That’s when I fell in love with the man.
Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 6:34 PM UTC
Life is an epic,
based on a koan—
we were forced to show up,
we couldn’t go home.
Life is absurd
as the rock rolls back down,
doomed to repeat,
heels dug in the ground.
Let go of the fidelity
that says lose yourself.
No other love can nourish,
you have all the wealth.
Admit
life is absurd, but all is well.
Only then are you able
to break the spell
of consciousness, and return
to the calm ebb and flow,
a soft tide under a half moon—
where we were long ago.
I watch my rock
roll back down the hill.
I threw the seeds.
I tried the pills.
There is nothing more worthy,
there is no other way.
A long life is no different
than life lived in a day
Sep 2, 2025
Sep 2, 2025 at 3:54 PM UTC