Tag: poet

Mars Is In Venus, I’m Over The Moon, And You’re Always Too Far Away

No respite in highway lines, only long and lonely roads. Weals burn frostbit hearts cold, when love is warm, and yet the stars do not align. Advertisements

Oh Maria, Maria – Won’t You Open Your Heart* And Let Me In? (Editors Note: *Legs)

Mourning in the morning, even by the evening, smoked in the dusk – I’m the dew that meets the sunrise. Smell me, taste me, feel me, breathe me. Inhale – inhale. Breathe. Don’t you know? I’m the muse that gives the dawn its minty…

The Ildiot (aka Homer’s Beer Run)

Heaven is hell-bent, misshapen sanctuary of senile. Men make sinners out of love, sibyls from devils and saints out of air. The clever pray for deliverance in a cup, Gods nectar and wheat’s bounty; bitter-sweet ambrosia by the barrel; His holy bottled excellence. A…


Bed covers don’t cover much besides cold toes and a window sill. No heat or warmth in this dire night and bed pillows wrinkled like my grandmother’s hands when she showed me how to play Casino before she died that September. Sixth, a Thursday….

A Domesticated Heartbreak

Wood floors. Laptop. Brugal. Ironing. Cat crying at the moon, wishing better things (are they for me???) Wishing stars are (pipe dreams???) for anyone who has a problem sleeping, distracting from the actions I know are coming in the morning. Alarm sounds. Sounds. Sounds….

Snapchat Sonata

Let me love you, all of you, the opposite of carefully hard edges of skin and personality, cut sharp as diamonds where your cheek starts and tongue begins to end my existence. There’s too much spray in your hair and it frizzes against my…