March 2012
30 posts
5 tags
February 2012
34 posts
6 tags
Coronation
Pumpikin screen-printed onto a chest thrown out in pride, “I found it!” she cries, gripping a dirt-stained skirt between burnt thumbs. The light behind her jack-o-lantern blows out as she stomps through the steaming trash, feet sliced open by metal teeth, disappearing into the caves of waste that make up her imaginary world. Emerging from the mine of rotten mattresses and tin cans, she...
Letter:
Apologies, apologies - accepted, excepted, rejected, ejected, regurgitated, vomited, restated, under-appreciated, ended, done, said, heard, and hated.
I would have risen to see you, but I could not part from the dream - I am the dead, the dreamt reality could not have been more real. The harshest sounds could not awaken me, but the scents in my head were better than the world.
I am not sorry,...
4 tags
The Internal Above
Still wondering about quieted scratching, a weapon splinters in coarse fabric. Dawning a coat, Protect me from this crawling arachnid (zipper snags on skin), Cold shall eat my hands & an asymmetrical staircase warps glass floors so the rain in the gutter flows sideways. Heaven lies beneath my trembling shins, & I can't make it down the steps.
4 tags
Constricted Conscript
Found something fascinating cast in crystal
my feet send earthquakes through Persian carpets
near the banister; mystical
in the hemorrhaging, complacent in my binding
meretriciousness, words tumble
over the tongue like syrup.
Sip bureaucratic brains through bendy straws, tall
like oversized pixie sticks, colored powder
the same as designer cocaine. Trains stall
in the wishing station,...
3 tags
Rows & rows of men in black uniforms stomp their hobnailed boots on the carpet of dead bodies laced together with hatred. I am but another; my hand is raised and my mind is blank, and as I wait the Power gains more from my fist in passivity than I could ever muster from my own volition.
The world is fueled by the will of the few & the robotics of the many.
Anonymous asked: :( you are so sexy, why are you not mine :'(
4 tags
There But For the Grace of God, Go I
Tulip petals budding from her laced cuffs,
make-up on a waxed face heavy, head low—
an emerald dress drapes enviously on faulty perfect skin.
her locket turns on chain-link thread, frame & glass
brittle and black by the smokestack’s exhaust.
never wanting to see the sepia photo inside, last
Chances to see façades yellowed—
lips absent—platinum sunrises
through scratched skylights...
