I want to burn it all
The filth. The scum.
The self absorbed.
The haughty. The vain.
The rich. The sin.
Category Archives: 13
Song O’ The Willamette
Seek ye sounds and hear the collective bugle calls!
O’ osprey n’ lumbering locomotive bawls
Hear its honking trombone plunger muted feature
Garbled warble like the voice of Charlie Brown’s teacher
Galileo
Like all the famous
astronauts and astronomers
who spent days
peering at the heavens
I’ve stared too long at the stars
orbiting inside your baby blues
to no longer deny that God exists
Prosopagnosia
Night and day’s tied faces to the plainly hidden
Double helical wrapped Christmas morning gifts
Opened up like halos when street lamps kick in
The Yawper and the Mute
Niches determined by force
Like the gravity of breathing
And the sounds you make
when you dream away from me
Our hand clasped curious souls
crawl from their human cages
tucked under cotton bed sheets
Solvitur Ambulando
This is my journey
To this goddamn place
I pace just behind the edge
Or at least what’s left of me
This, my purgatory
My paradox
My gathering
My reckoning
It’s Not All Doom And Gloom
Cops push out addicts
Living under bridges
Then talk them down
From jumping off them
Suicide rates are jumping
But it’s not all bad news
At least the stock market
Reached another high
No. 13
They are onto us so let’s hide away
Inside hidden fox-holed motel floors
Intentionally mislabeled as room 14’s
We can take respite inside conch shells
And spiraling sunflower inflorescence
The Tigress Awakens 