I know you
needed someone
who is willing
****** flowers for you
and present them
with thorns all removed
but
here in the shadows
of the gnarled bramble
I'm still wild and unchecked
as I will never cease to be

Light plays throughout the room
where the blinds were pulled off the rails
Slams and screams in the units
surrounding
grant a brief illusion
that I am not sealed up
Down to half a twelve ounce aluminum can
I can exchange for change tomorrow
to do it all again
For now though
Not enough to black out
Silently watching the light play
until the sun recedes
will have to do

The decay
you've wrought
with your doubled up beating
and distortion assaults
gives me no choice but
to fixate on new sonic romances
and I'm in love
with the way she cradles me
in that sedated groove
and the caress
of those faint record scratches
I need to
get through new time signatures
as I grow older
and apart from you

At some point
I got really into
this radical
pretend revolutionary
mocking revolutions
trash pop art
where it was about
not writing
beautiful or
compelling things anymore
but just regurgitating raw
thoughts and avante garde musings
onto the page
like careless splashes of paint
red and black -
- black and read
- read in blackest humor
sense in the senseless
nonsensical. -
No hallowed grounds -
no safe spaces -
no trigger warnings -
or safety switches -
No structure
no reason
trash trash trash trash
with maybe
just a hint
that buried beneath
this landfill dissection lab
of grotesque disregard
a muted glint of
grace and hope
yearns to be shared
once more

The shrill thrill **** of young blood ills makes the hill
become a valley of death writhing desperately in hands
too often dragging queens through the mud
all along the botched towers leaning and glaring
without caring
Instead intent-on
restricting oxygen with crass observation
only ever offering tasteless insincere apologies as afterthought
Alone and easily overpowered
clouded crowd-sourced asphyxia overtakes
just enough breath left
for recorded tied down violations
with faint traces of ****-shaming-victim-blaming
cat calls free-for-alls
and “don’t it always seem to go
that you don’t know what you’ve
got” ‘til it’s slammed shut stolen
and swollen gutted-paved-depraved
by gentrifires stoking those immolate night advances
and god oh god is it really too much to ask
to feel safe on my own sidewalk?

Love
conquers all
and
conquerors
destroy everything
in their path

Little Scarlet Mouse Girl
and I
had very little cash
left from pay day
in my days as a
projectionist at the
cheap theatres
and her time at
a head shop
that didn't keep very good books
But it was enough to
buy a few cheeseburgers
before my shift
on Christmas morning
and Little Scarlet Mouse Girl
says muffled through
a huge bite
"Jack in the Box burgers
taste like ****"
and quickly adds
"Not that I would know".
She dropped me off and kissed me
as the snow flurries gathered around
our feet
and I had thought for sure
at that moment
this was the person I would spend my life
curled around
Regardless of the drugs
our tongues were acquainted with