• I can see you absorbing a reflection submerged in vain centrism around your painted on lids that only concern over the spiders crawling down runways and drivel up my back quivers my head that your summit is so cold and desolate.

  • So might be the intent of misunderstood words words words, are delivered in soft confession to those boys in the lonely memorial park. I saw my friend Bill there, kissed my forehead and gave me a thousand Hail Mary’s then lost my marbles in the game.
    Could of bet they were a bunch of lyin cheats yes sir! instead followed them to the river to wash…[Read more]

  • Some stream of consciousness writing…

    Blamed cant tell for a second glance to have thought for a minute did it cant take it back so what now i stand and for where i might travel and die to lay and forget the blueish sky with my hands and eyes that see my life that must start or end with a atom hydrogen bomb explodes and wipes out my thoughts…[Read more]

  • For the people who linger on in Albuquerque.

    Imminent skies and exodus desert.
    You call it The Land of Enchantment,
    We call it The Land of Entrapment.
    Rheumy eyes amble the interstate 40,
    adorned with intoxication and irrelevance of sordid souls and peyote genius.
    They don’t know they exist.
    37 cents short, thinking you have reached a euphoria.

  • My thoughts tumble,
    over last season’s descended leaves.
    It always seems too cold in autumn,
    Chills my blood.

  • You’ve strung yourself on the branches of my memories.
    Did it intentionally.
    Because you need me to think about it.
    Without it , you cease.
    …Contemptuous prick.