That Witchcraft smile,
Like there's something to hide in
That Lovecraft mind,
All twisted and beddable,
Give me the sweet stuff;
Narrowly edible.

-Jamie F. Nugent

Never trust a man
who tells you
he is a businessman,
vagueness in a black tie,
he must be in the game
of drugs or other illegal fancies,
or the absolute worst of all,
he is telling you the truth.

-Jamie F. Nugent

A morning that should be bright by now,
But it is just a cacophony of wet leaves,
The back-braking ice marrying the road’s cheek,
And now I stand in it, but I never said goodbye,
How could I?
I was too busy holding on to the bones of a tree,
To get away from swirling drains of
Puddles, eleven stories deep,
Washing away into temporal streams,
My shoes are falling apart and
My mind is wringing wet.

-Jamie F. Nugent

The television plays
static and bad news,
You sleep on a pillow
under the basement
below the bed,
You are barely sleeping,
I am barely dreaming,
needle-sewed nightmares
that wake me and have me
jaded and joyless,
taboo thoughts,
just static,
just bad news.

-Jamie F. Nugent

My sweet Maria,
You are my marina,
My little ocean swell,
Are you feeling unwell?
Give me your flu,
Golden French horns
Ringing out for you ,
Fold away your cold,
Solid gold, you've glowed,
Take all your symphonic coughs,
And bury them in a box,
A coughing coffin,
Under keys and locks.

-Jamie F. Nugent

You can't wind back the clock
When it has melted in your hands;
And to sizzle the hollow hearts of starving artists,
Feed them riddles you kept
In the empty space behind your cheek.

We won't die of thirst, if we are
Standing in puddles filled by crocodile's tears,
Softly soaking our shins,
We dissolve.
Like sugar in steaming sweet tea,
We dissolve,
But we leave a tease
For sweet tooths.

-Jamie F. Nugent

Maybe not just now,
It might not be tomorrow,
Soon, we'll wait no more.

-Jamie F. Nugent