moody booty

I once saw the moon at 2:43 AM, and
The moon saw me at 2:42 AM, and I cried.
Somewhere along the way, I thought of
Those reckless targets, the senseless aims
My eyes used to follow my mind. Feet in
Shallow waters, feeling the tempered ripples
Under the waves. Those demon labels I
Consume. Frantic echoes. Written into the
Saddle of a ride into territory I wish I never
Entered. I remember those timid dimples.
I used to trace them like my fingers against
The skin of an orange tadpole, cautiously
Feeling my own destructive power, wishing
Those girlish caddies never reared its limp
Against those garnish larks. Ripping apart
My skin was a hawkish bleak sight of the
Past, wishing those moments never came
Back, washed into the past. Gone. Done.

wednesday farts

Buttered iron, wrapped in a thin linen cloth
Littered leaves drawn on hand-printed faces
Fluttering softly, listless fervent fever, the moth

Meditative silence unto beckoned mildew night
Silent steps walked towards those unfortunate flowers
Life had sorrow, living lice burrowed in friendly blight

Wrinkled dandruff fallen onto unswept carpet hairs
Timeless moment of occurrence and moment passed
Frantic terrors called onto by acid-washed tears

Swimming captured a relic’s hurtful ritual cringe
Privilege’s unconditional indifference at reckless expulse
Accumulated cuts healed into stone irritated fringe

pinchy poopy

In the land of fortune and misdeeds, redemption was the art of innocence
Wicked windows, crystalized elegance forsworn disfigured dismemberment
Shallow dampenings evoked wretched whispers from wanton waves

Whitened waters, I saw myself starting again
Staring at gasoline reflections and dusty mirrors, I found
A hot pot of coffee brewing in the evening sun
The taste of grounds paired with the taste of ground

Writhered writers, jabbed pencils in pale forearm skin
Discomfort inserts within patterned frolic horrors
Glowing red, tomato paste from cumulated bloody blisters
Phantasmic fascination with the taste of our own innards

Projecting writs, of mandamus a murderous moon
The color of blood is so dark in the evening so soon
Blue skies, white clouds, melting in colorless rain
Droplets from heaven drip from ocherous rusty pains

Reckless fury, how wool howls against windy meadows
Retired fuchsia faded in faceless city sidewalks
Vitality earned and forgotten in its rightful place
Remembered patterns, plaid with a touch of summer

Some hurt, reticent entry to a regal palace garden
Some sublime, Eden is a place best left forgotten


what happened to daddy long legs?

On Tuesday, I stepped outside with my feet on the land
On Thursday, I said goodbye with my hand in the sand

This is not the life I wanted

Glistening housefly, its legs glued to a piece of tape
Wings struggling against the phantom of taking shape

This is not the life I wanted

Angellic moist droplets fill my lungs with the squirm of dread
What is life lived, without seeing a vast field of the dead?

This is not the life I wanted

Take twice, hands filled, offering up pale summer’s damp ice
Stay there, don’t hurt, fabled solace channels near vice

This is not the life I wanted

Wet concrete stone splattered against a falling branch
Two, three leaves fall, accumulating into an avalanche

This is not the life I wanted

Sensory echoes forming shallow memories wishful past
Relinquished in tempestuous tide, the hope of blithe last

This is not the life I wanted

Tepid connection fashioned to hallow furious undertones
Shapeless mummy haunted by winter’s dry wishbone

This is not the life I wanted

Disassociative dimples, ripped dress and bleached armor
Fanciful ferocious feathered fraternal fatherfucker

This is not the life I wanted

Repressed palate, enervated soul, resourceful wicked bastard
Bemoaned knight of restoration, unto thee forlorn dastard

This is the life I had