4AM Train

A generation of trauma

Near misses
Full on hits
the impact
is enormous

A generation of lovesickness

Reaching out
into some sort of abyss
preaching praise &
dividing secrets

At dawn’s infancy burning
yawning caverns of loss
smelling of sugar, cigarettes
and citrus

Yearning for respite
searching for perfection
[the passage of escape]
Be it smoke, drink, blade
A generation of trauma

& the train


(Photo by 

Matthew Malkiewicz)


I remember a time
when the power cut out
& suddenly noticing
how many fireflies
sparkled that night

I thought, breathing summer in &
so content,
each firefly, like us, has
its own message
they only flicker to their rhythm
in their time, at their pace

In that moment, briefly perceiving
a little… precisely how
a higher power
could make sense
of us



The war is now, the white raven
warned, and you’ll touch the sky
when you raise your sword:

Even if the battle is ruthless,
you’ll progress, knowing,
you wore it all on your sleeve.

His lips will move,
but the message
is lost in the dark

& through those shadows there
you may find peace in shedding your skin
knowing you can begin anew

as once impenetrable fog is whisked
A.              W.            A.              Y.



My nose has stopped bleeding
but I still taste metal,
(I’ve stopped searching for the moon)

My rosy lenses now shattered pieces
I see you, glass and stone _

Its got to End (worn game, your charade)
With a taut voice you chisel love
& inspire rage, dis


I have to ask: is this
right now?

I have to ask: will you ever learn? (Or)
Use your identity just to remind (guilttrip)
Who gave me birth?

I learned a long time ago I was never first
I learned a long time ago:
Who was first
Was it you?
Or your extension?


          (AUTHORS NOTE: you play me too often, even if you dislike the song)

Zero Hour

Insects crawl along your inner ear
& wreaking havoc on your thinsoulskin
no light, no gratification

No mood

No mood

(take those to bed with you)

Empty fractals of jetset night on zero hours
Replacing/////tearfully shed the practice
streaks glow alight on jumpstart showers
(? I’¿]

Sense is no bother when
there’s a lack of eager sensation then
_am I used to it/n


Am I *e)motionless ?



Slap your face
& make you kneel
You’re mine for good and
For questionable reveal
Poor artifact

Poor counterfeit
Kick your mouth with my words
Punch air. .

Love transparency
A ghost of spiral antimony
By antipathy