She showed her whole ass to the man in the pastasking the world “who wants to know?”When I grabbed her drink and offered a seatshe said “I can’t sit here all alone.”Bare-assed on a stool she thought I was cooland I told her I definitely wasn’t. She insisted I knewwhen I asked what she was…

wandering lostscooping shit from a litter box it sounds better in my head(and the music, too,is right in tune) these pretentious ways to sayi miss you the cat’s in the toilet taking a drinkand where’s my phone again? —

I’ve seen you naked a thousand times before —one hand on the handle of the door,halfway out,like you were born to run. The memories that muscles makethe dumb flexing of a mindless few;they never move a day in their lifebut they dance to one hell of a tune. “That’s how they teach you to fly.”…

The year I left homewas years in the making;Clouds gather before the rain;you make a mountain in an instant.The moment the earth tides crashfissures scar the landscape irreversible –mountains and valleys and textureand summits. “Texture makes meaning” my teacher told me ina class on the English language. The word wascontact. “Feeling is friction.” Clouds willgather,…

I convinced myselffalling is flyingthe windrush risingstomach balling up like a doughnut holeup and out and over and inside outwondering of asudden stopping but you never look down I don’t know what happenedit was a long way down.I never looked I never saw.My feet just touched the ground.The bottom, rock bottom, ‘l’ll never know.I won’t…

the sum of many partsthe many the lesserthe anti-anti-agressor the man in your headthe futurethe getting aheadthe bottle the winethe grapethe good time the fade-inthe gone againthe rhythm your heartthe water the surfacethe reflective superstitious the “listen!”the hearingthe muted morningthe dawn you wanted to believe inthe noonthe truth the hoursthe morningthe timethe loss the thing…

I’ve seen that look before; another hour more’til the truth comes.a dank cave, cavernous. The depths, they last forever. another modern telephonic ghost whose haunting is silence;manufactured abyss between the lines–some wired connections severed or unstarted—is it a reliefyelling with no echo? i came long to know that no one would know (without even a…

I used to wonder if anything I’d be,then I found out that anything is me.