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Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Welcome to the Machine


I have a new book coming out on Interior Noise Press. Some of these will be submitted for it, others will not. Laying on a pile of poems and  just posting them as I feel it. So, to read the poems that won't be on here...you have to buy the book! I'll let you know when its coming out, shouldn't be till later this year which gives me plenty of stuff to post stuff, and stash stuff, to make an incredible book.



Welcome to the Machine





There's no time for chasing whiskey with shadows, when the cross is crooked and graffiti covers it like a hip hop totem pole. Territory marked with piss, Love is a card trick you see on the street corner, sex is fake currency and propaganda for the illuminate.

Self‐Absorbed and still leaking, I cut Joan of Arc's hair with an old rusty straight razor. I would strap on a chainsaw and take Wendy O' Williams right here on this floor. I would sit next to you on the porch swing if you'd tell me a story. Just remember I'm too old for fairy tales and I never believed in Santa Claus.

Georgia O Keefe prints line the walls of my therapist's office

I saw the gift horse there once, but he kept his mouth shut because he didn't want anyone to see his rotting, slimy teeth.


Claustrophobic. We are both just using each other for one last breath. So sometimes when you are sleeping I put my lips on yours and inhale as much of you in as I can. I’m not sure who I’m trying to finish off, I only feel the approaching suffocation, and choking on wishes granted by shooting stars.







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