"LiSTEN" said the tongue
"I smell tragedy" replied the eyes
"Who knows?" questioned the nose
"I think" screamed the heart
And Spirit hugged the Soul wishing
this unbelievable dream would
just go away.

:: 09-03-2018 ::

then asked me  to which i replied               c
'whenever it bleeds horses trample            u
;a bird's emptying nest'                                 t-ting
goes a bell within my heart's head             e
-ating all the impossibile births waste       d
  inside hollow Eve's Private crucifixion   g
-od knows god knows where all the         e
   -motions go to die /+\


:: 09-03-2018 ::

I followed a
      f
        a
       l
        l
      i
        n
          g
feather |
       to the ground
along the twist
    -ing-twirl
    -ing
>dizzy<
       | path |

I found a penny
which held no thoughts
together the feather
and copper bone
fell upon an anvil
cloud of striking stone!

:: 08-05-2014 ::

My wooden staircase creaks

      [a heart broken by feet]

and weeks the measure my neck

what month-long that noose stretched!

A hooded man in black

  shared a joke a pun the trapdoor
               I fell
      
        |
        |
    __
     |      |

      
   for the line

a broken neck upon

   a heart string
    
         D
       R
         O
       P


:: 07-11-2014 ::

THAT in my fever while sanity has escaped by baluster
i continue to gaze in daze across the sea of white-
capped madness

Each o-shaped mouth
Each Black-bead eye
and all the ears
     all the chins
             teeth

  speak an infinite story of nothing but sadness.
And within the orchestral pit finely dressed musicians
they shed b-flat note tears; their mannequin powder-white
skin a color of pink's sunsetting murmur.

Simply, the true story is off stage toward this
improbable army audience; the finely carved polychrome
citizens start to move;  half-bodied and more alive
than the flesh-kingdom.

   Last night.  Last night i felt.  
That one's life can be as real as one's imagination
   if you sinerely wish it.

:: 08-23-2018 ::

I INTERRUPTED the death
of a quaint soul this day
who wandered aimlessly
across frozen fields of May.

She spoke a single word,
"Beloved."

Her soul cleaved into
part of a half from two.

Gently held within my hand
With a word I put them
back into a whole
and then spoke
a single word;

"My beloved."

THE PRECIOUS terror is realizing
most adults are dead children
or like a day that folds itself into

a basket of reborn night.  That long-
necked geese and stiff necks are
either pretending giraffes or self

consumed souls; ignoring the mirror's
reflecting thoughts introspection
devours it's own mouth.  

  Surrealism is hickey upon my heart
that bests freezer burn sunlight any
now.  Kiss me you brilliant stupid
fool.

:: 08-30-2018 ::