October 2008
1 post
You Who's Lost.
I’m crying on the inside and it’s not for you. Its for her, the one whom just sacrificed her third child to ideals far beyond reach. The one whom starves until just beyond sanity, melting into the gingham at this lovely space we should be enjoying—but, instead, are borderline arguing as to whether Valium and espresso with a thirteenth cigarette and the first meal in days is the best...
September 2008
2 posts
Overdrawn
aopi:
Let me start out with something crystalline clear And this poem which is not about picket signs
Or fences
Justice or assimilation
This poem Is not Dying To be read
This is a fresh brew In a cup hand crafted Honeyed by the wild
Dripping off this crisp fresh clove
of cinnamon stirringstick
Clouded by you’re favored cream
steamed
And frothy With a generous side Serving of chocolate...
Without Reflection.
reigningdream:
whatdreamsmaycome:
You fucked me last night, or at least you tried to… just prior to that thinning sound of helicopter spinning overhead like cicada tied by thread nailed hard into heavy earth and the monkey alarm clock.
I broke into your house while you were away — to leave a letter, but your bald-headed, couch-crasher walked in on me...