Category: 365 Collection
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how I twirl and slither skither and skatter in scented words of my own design.
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Oh if I had succeeded if I had had my wish we never would have met
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Split me open til the alphabet soup spilled out
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“Tell me, son, Are you afraid of the dark?” “No, But I am afraid of darkness.”
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my mother bought me a latte in a drably fancy park cafe
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Mouth wide, bloody and pleading, palms extended, my need is ugly and unrelenting.
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I got the news today My V.A. claim denied.
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Suppose I said the words “dinner time” and I wrote the words “chicken piccata”
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i’d like to hear the repentance of a devastator broadcast to the world live and direct from his deathbed
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The mint and spice scent of my grandfather’s pipe tobacco, once lost
