Wilted Lilies.

  Last thought, before I fall to sleep. First thought, when I open my eyes. Face on the back of every bubble floating through my mind, every waking moment in between. Today I haven’t the strength for clever words. Just honesty. Dull boring honesty. We’ve heard it all before though, haven’t we? It still hurts […]

Navel Gazing.

On her back, she lights a cigarette. Sharp smoky exhale inhabits moisture: viral sickness in a willing host. Breathless, her sweat smells like Jim Beam. Contours undulate: pale pasteurized dunes contrasting gloom; a thirties Femme FatalĂ© in carcinogenic monochromy. Stubble shored silken cleft: low-grade sandpaper against my whispering. I taste her, not in my mouth […]

Unfinished. Unsought.

  Of Sherbet and Gin, tasted your skin. Blood alcohol’s begun to thin, to the gun in his mouth’s searing chagrin. Trauma-bound Saturday, once again. Damaged hearts in screaming din, when darkness find each other, within. Capillaries fused. Occlusion abound. Valentine mist. Intoxicant cloud. When lips first touched? Sweet melody – so loud Unfinished. Unsought. […]

Without a Rope.

  Have another cold slice of heart disease, Dad. Only make sure to smother it in enough butter to see teeth. Partially hydrogenated milk fat laid like mortar on starchy carb bricks. Cement for suffering arteries: Failing blood tunnels on the verve of collapse, Holding tsunami’s tide at bay with a broom. You tiny, weak-willed, […]

Vagabondage.

  Across the dark, six winters past, clear cobalt sky found me in her bewitching gaze. Azure spheres simmering aflame, for me. Such fission entwined flesh. Valves of a once beating heart: no longer the brass section of devotion’s orchestra. Something wondrous, rotten from the start until it finally fell apart. One necrotic half – […]

The Many-Faced God and the Sisyphean.

Christmas Day I’ll eat mangled offal. The disembowelled harp strings of a once effulgent heart, thrumming with noble intent. Now but a shoddy dishevelled instrument to be played upon by my dinner guest. Any verve long since beaten into submission, withered and died, in the face of insurmountable odds. Unfeeling. Unhearing. My soundtrack: not Bing […]

Haemorrhaging You.

I have an idea about me. It’s emergent, from the muscle in chaos you left me to carry. The soul of a poet, with the pathology of an addict. Alcohol and Cuban smoke infuse me, not merely diseases anymore, but requirements. Compelled to bleed ink because I was born to. I didn’t chose words, they […]