Today I shall meet cruel men, cowards and liars, the envious and the drunken. They will be like that because they do not know what is good from what is bad. This is an evil which has fallen upon them not upon me. They are to be pitied, not... Stolen, but fitting. Here are your words. To be blessed with such grace & virtue in my dull, blank world. Goodnight..

"I met someone new today. Ooo oo ooo."

See the blood on my feet.
Now go.

It hurts where? Yes, it will hurt everywhere.
Stethoscope there in the room with stainless surfaces and a ticking,
No it is a tapping behind the walls stirring the blood snared along with something inside of me.
Potions and cures, then sealed containers of flowers and beakers locked away remain motionless.
As if hiding, as if afraid.
Rather, enlightened of the cells I carry.


Befriend the gallops of illusion.
Four horsemen down from the failing ceiling.
Postmarked dollhouse, scars on the ceiling, echoes joined to you at the hip.
Scars of the disease you carry and sprinkle onto chests like so many children's agony.

Hooves carry eyes to scan this barren nest of yours.

There,
the ruins of something innocent.

And there,
the photos of some memory discarded.

Assured with the reality that creation of life is but fantasy here, unattainable.


The innocent fall.

Smiling as they enter, your charms masking the smell of your closet's skeletons, a door revolving unhinges.

The coins you receive, coated in thumbprints and neglect. Mirrors of your frame.
A currency, your own currency of moans and gnashing.
Your small teeth becoming your permanent incisors.
Crumbling.
Powder then paste, yet you remain alive.

They become your master for sixty nine dollars.
They became your lover for want of a token.

Tokens forged in the booth appearing near noon.

Nothing else or again.

Then the drummer moves to erase the music of your past.

A vat overfilled with murmurs and spittle.

Your finished symphony.

Suddenly my life isn't all that it was meant to be.
No good doings and no Hell that I've come back from.
And a plane flies, people asking why it has to be like this.
It's just another day.
Take the guesswork out and you will know what you've been dealt.

Her lipstick falls off.

A shimmering substance,
A tear falls, your powdery limbs & and ******* melt,
the perfume spoiling is a sickening way to lure and rock your mind full of distant graves and more distant roots,whispering ,
screaming but after your eyelashes kiss.

Lips I feel lighter notes and sweeter songs are due best to avoid, awards jangle from the greying clips and scraps below your softer feathers.

Oh?
Is this cashmere, a feeling lost to below the old world?

Pray-chance tell me it is,
the knife and my pool of blood underneath my heart,
just above the parking lot.

In the bar,
my eyes
kiss pool cues.
In time I'll walk away.

Stop.
She lights a cigarette and continues driving
Jesus is the answer, as she pulls away.

"memories may occur "
Over the phone she reads to me the massage parlors' brochures.

Just a few lines.
Just dropping by.
Balance it.
Neustadt.
But it's small tragedy here on my rnd, visit your end.
Yeah flowers so.

Also, I mean.

Two pink trills beneath my dark moon.
Order her a newer face it will take away what hurts.
Me staying along the bank to hear the new king's words.

Tell me I have left of what I guessed to be my life.

I'll continue picking parts from the rusting owl.
My mouth with your blue lips I know now just how coarse.
I know that I'm far off course.

True. Truer aim.
And I now turn the key where graves are not.

The potter