6 bedrooms, 6 bathrooms
Ants, in all of them

New sofa, new perfume
Still, I see the holes in the walls

Tall ceilings, silver spoon
Mildewy, a faucet that only runs warm

A carton of milk in the fridge,
Spilt over,
drip drip dripping into a sour puddle
it soaks through the floorboards
pungent, cutting through the air
I hear it as you hold the door open

Come again
But please,
Leave soon

Slats
planted in the sand

lashed together
with rusty wire

while scraggly reeds peak in out
And up around them

I am there and yet

I never was

Hamlet, sharpen your sword of trust, for Macbeth is surely waiting.

The specter of ‘Civil war’ stalks the land and the ghosts of senseless violence, so long docile, have come to hollow-eyed attention.

Our cauldron was filled with innocence, as the ever-thirsty succubi require, the glory of war is being shaken, not stirred and the betrayal will be served as quick and cold as steel.

#chefskiss

Legs blown off
Your reflection stands in the corner
Growing heavy
Growing tired
Bursting out of your ratty car
Running through that barren field with bombs dropping out of your mouth
Cheeks swollen

Old skin,

I swore,
I would not make

But here I claw
In all my flaking majesty...

Some sordid Lord
of  all Misrule,

a gruelling fool
inglorious

anathema
to pitiful anatomy...

I drive the screwdriver through my own heart and
Stuff the open wound with my fist and
Swaddle myself in threadbare cloth and
Get to work,
Gathering up the pins to
Try and stitch my skin back together again.

Looking up at me with dandelion glass baubles for eyes,
Say, "What about tomorrow?"
I shake my head down at you from my magnificent children's playset
My neck cracks when I **** it to the side
I whisper in singsong,
"I think we should stop."