I wear my blankets like ponchos because I want to feel them all at once. I’m singling out cumulus clouds for your heart to fall on. I am told I am strong and this is martyrdom. But I’m no monk, I’ll give you that. There are no photographs of me in Tiananmen Square. I’m just a victim of the firing squad.

That’s how it is when I open my mouth. I know what I’m talking about so it’s loud. I make you wish you could ignore me, but you really like the sound of my insight. It makes you and your friends smile. That’s not my fucking fault.

Maybe the awful reality is that if I were in that Square I am the row of tanks and you, the man standing in front. Temporarily blocking the road. Kinda.. wraps things up does it not? I learn something new every day & when you get sick of me next I’m going to smile this time, and not get louder to pierce the air with my proverb. I’m just going to reload. There are rebels fighting for good reasons and then there are those buckled in to steer the show but down for the count. Who are you today? Who were we?


poetry & paganism

Sacred relics
  left untouched
  like a mad girl’s virginity
   [at least, you pray]

There are chords despite the tell
  they decrecendo well
  & diminish to where
  you imagine there’s
nothing wrong but there’s
       something wrong I swear

  red flags & alarm bells

    flapping of wings in mourning
          it’s too dark to be morning
       it’s too dark to
              dream anything but the moment
I wonder now that you’re deceased
        and I believe, you can see everything
       will your image of me, change?
more than anyone else you had a hand
      in staging my final product
                 the priest was right
about encouragement, at least/
       my part, my piece forgone, defiled

           I know you know what I meant
–number two


I want to feel something else
I wish I knew for myself
                   [What the fix was]
but because
I’m lost
I need your hand
In the dark
I need a hand
I need you|r| hand
I need a hand


Me-m|ory Ga/ps

because you think everything
                  you love can be replaced
        a churlish lie is just pleading to be
                    In reality——–
           I am sick of dreaming

            Inspired by: NF – Lost

The Demon Drink

she woke
 with a twisted tongue
    nailed to the floor

 pickled heart in a glass jar
    & she doesn’t know why
          I made sure she couldn’t

  we’re not friends & time will kill her
     I go everywhere with nicotine
           Saliva     and siphoned tearsalt

  I go everywhere with a shovel
      sitting in the shape of a swastika
             tasting her inner demons’ lies
     like vintage fucking wine

I’ll do it to you too
I’ll travel with you
Everywhere /// anytime



Hold Fast

An apathy of impartiality
what madmen the media
made of us all

Tinkering // knowingly and
maliciously with our cortisol
All for the mirage of control

The delayed response_______
& Earth’s heightened pulse
The same message cascading
through every open airwave


Or was it resuscitate?