The red light district appears before us. blinding strip club signs provided a blurred outline to the intricate zigzags of 73. I squirm. Jeff sings along to the barely audible sounds of the radio as we passthrough his hometown. The gas station signs slowly increase in price as we approach the bridge. I light my …
There’s a fixture next door that blows around tumbleweed earths. The bird’s wings flap to the beating in my head that I cannot deny. They turn around like the engine of a seafaring boat. Its rusty rudder is tempted to churn up flotsam. The crew jettisons to lighten its load as wings thrash in the …
Vater Unser Reverend Jonathan Flynn laid himself in the same bed he has laid in for thirty-two years now. He prayed his prayers; the same words and the same hopes as all, as always. Chop. Thrust. Clap. Amen. He took the remote control and put on some Mozart in the background to fill the void …
Normally it’s the first word that sets the tone of the poem and the verb we look for for the dri- ving action but what if there was none and the words were crosses that we have to bear?
Grew too fast; Never will be a kid again. Hand held charms, blowing wished days along. You cleansed traces of wonderment from me. I left it all behind when we hung our clothes on shag- carpeted floors. Pooling our differences as one. Liquid flowing under the same boat. No longer docked at bay but now …
You keep me waiting forever filtering in the worth and out the rest. Forever trailing the one word everyman knows but so few lips utter, and fewer hearts feel. Bleeding me onto other forever stuttering, for-never real beginnings to forbidden ends.
Here and alone, silence whispers from the walls, “Fight this war of a conquest lost and won. Heed your sorrows in the wisdom you might gain. Fear tomorrow for what yesterday brings.” The visions left to live with bring shame to self respect. The truths are here to deal with tonight. Far and away, already …
Blue contrasts white where the fading sun’s silhouette breaches the air’s shield. Delirium. Crystal blanket covers, coveting the deepest of your immersions. Bury deep inside what you can not understand, comfort yourself in cutout halos. Here is your chance to pad the fall or steal the dim-fated speckles, glowing neon assurance.
Where are we then when everything is up in the air and nothing true can be sincere? Where will you be when I come home to an empty house? Oh, where will you be? I can’t find you when I look inside. Three minutes ’til I have to leave, and hours worth of work to …
Words are useless on the printed page. Life proves more disheartening in the Cyberia in which we live. Detached from you by the one thing we have created, all that we have to call our own becomes something that we never were, ourselves. My heart beats faster while my intentions are misconstrued, as my thoughts …