Chair heads.

Took what’s needed.
Burn the wolves.
Like all poems have.



Garrett Johnson.

Silent film.

The hounds have come for me.
Jeweled in swamp night air.
Silent immaculate adventures.
The suaver will have his choosing.
Silver in the night.
Cold ***** soft.
Mad chariots seeking for a muse.
I have no place here.
For the great Eleesha will have her day.
Cold with warm ciders and teas.
Pleasantly.
Empty.




Garrett Johnson.

Sanctum.

Salem.
Oh Salem.
Who'd you ****.
Who'd you ****.
Who'd you...
Why'd you go quietly.
Heath could of saved you.
Salem.
Oh Salem.
I held your hand.
I held your.
Hand.
That day in Salem.



Garrett Johnson.

One Riff.

Come down the stairs.
Take off that robe.
Get a chair.
Pull it close.
Whispering hands.
Silvery toast.
The best thing the coast could offer.
Was your hand.
Now.
We sit.
On the swing.
Conjuring.
The only.
Song We sing.



Garrett Johnson.

Song 12.

I'm going to the store.
Pick up some cigs.
Get a Poster of Uma Thurman.
A record by The Smiths.
Morrisey.
Get a milk shake.
you can share it with me.




Garrett Johnson.

Ash flower.

Cold showers.
Warm hands.
Everything gone.
tell the self it’s fine.
When it’s not.
I’m not.
But i’m Ok.
Not the only one.
Raining tar.
Running in noire.
Fun times.



Garrett Johnson

Polite shadows.

Rocket fuel.
Hello.
I’m ok.
Not really.
But that’s fine.
Not important.
Too important.
Waste away.
Never wasted.
Arm rest.
Too tired.
And a big ******* montage of heck fire.



Garrett Johnson.