Sometimes she doesn’t get it. She’ll get in the way, and mess up my work, and she’ll yell for more food when her plate is half full, and she’ll rub against my elbow as I’m typing something important. Then she’ll sit on my papers that…
Category: Marathon Poem
Culinary Beast Mode
Killer culinary concocter, Easy mode set to feed gourmetgasms. Like a top shot always on point. Tricky skills school my cuisine. All his presentations dwarf mine. No stopping the big white beast.
it burns
do you have a toaster? yeah, just don’t burn the place down is it even plugged in? why wouldn’t it be in working order? i don’t remember what we were talking about it seemed important though scratches from a woman’s heels can be deadly same…
7pm
I mid evening break the bubbles poured over the rim im beyond the wine now the ink is still with me though the jacuzzi it flooded the room i would think i poured so many bubbles i can’t see the ink i feel amazing though…
(xi)
mecum omnes plangite :…..they say the mountains are filled with crystals,and good fortune.Turn off the gas now, the jester weeps;it is the hour the long-haired croupier(O Fortuna! Sors immanis!)in skirt and stilettoes, stepson shards from shattered hearts. that which the eagles at night had dropped…
Mirror
Can you become Like a mirror Reflecting that which is? Can you delve Into every crevice Of your being To finally meet And come to know Who you truly are? Can you explore Your fear And tremble Through it Rather than Trying to…
Erased
You never said goodbye. You just disappeared Leaving me to wait And wish And hope You erased yourself from my life. There’s an emptiness in your place I don’t wait anymore Or wish Or hope I just miss you.
just down the road 6PM
pizza place for dinner but I had a calzone shared with my daughter had to get out of the house just down the road not even a mile away half of that
The Consuming and Raging War of The Poetics
Part XI We all know, not all dreams are pleasant, and as my body gives in to the wares of war, I drift into a dream far away; past days of my mother’s brutality, into the realm of falling in love and entering into marriage….
glass house
being a writer is like living in a glass house you learn to tolerate the stones.