My thoughts are the slots
Put a coin in to play
Two pennies for some sense
Since the banks recompense
the poor sitting on a lower shelf
The rich are empty, lost themselves
Attached to puppet strings
Pulled up by faceless masters
faster full of things
Stop. Cut your strings.
Sell the loans and mortgage debts
Escape the ensnaring nets
Look. Now you’re free.

Fear is free just look at me
Im stuck inside with my soul to hide
a sinful slip up ups my chance
My tongue is doing the liars dance
Two toes on point, or into finger guns?
That’s the one that I still fear
the freedom to do, drive the car, yes steer.
Drive away or drive by
to these feeling on the sidelines
second string emotions turn
with stinging motions. Burn
my offing notions with a note
not a hundred grand but a modicum
I lay in my bed try to sleep, feeling none.


The slots spun a short win
when I put my two cents in.
Now the lump sum is sitting dumb
My thoughts are dimmer
I’m the loss when I’m the winner.

Some days there are no
needs that matter; other days,
I need a reason.

I just felt myself die

And every second afterwards was a reminder

Flesh is not as tempting as you made it seem

It just is a mark that escapes notice


And today I watched a suicide

Written cleanly between the lines of poetry

There were enough reason to leave me gasping

Sharing the panicked desperation of their loved ones mourning

It was pretty to watch them degrade

Their sawdust imprinted on skin

I was told to take it standing up

Far away from the floor I was tempted to decay upon

At attention I couldn’t help but to stop, drop, and roll


I learned to keep myself safe before I learned my name

Lost in translation through the years

My priorities shifted from existing to pretending I wasn’t inside my skin