Sucker Punch

I’m a sucker for lust like a sickness in itself to lick the clavicle off of your chest, tongues impaling and pretentious with your level of distorted perversion and psychosis, I envy all the atoms that get to live inside you, creatures crawling around undeserving and dictating the way in which you eat bread and…

Hollywood Mus(e)ic

It must hurt to be him. A Sun King embalmed into one, specific love. Married to the widow and jumping coasts as if all things were fine full floating feral, of all things – ferociously virile and written into the strategy of superior design,           he wanders the streets again,  …

Carnivore

There is a carnivore alive inside of you when you stare at me without blinking, I can hear what you are trying not to think, like an abundance of greed caving in all around you, it echoes in your eyes     …..     there is no free will / the indents in our…

Hybrid Florae

You left your handwriting on a restroom wall in fuchsia ink,grimy prints from blood bitten lips       Damon & Soto, quickto fashion James Dean – if he were bougainvillea and lacedhis own lungs with hybrid florae You’re as dirty as the street corner      I’m impatient,anticipating what impulsive words you’ll soil next, tripping…

Publication Update | 4

Multiple poems have been picked up by Terror House Magazine – and will be published Friday November 9th at 3pm EST @ terrorhousemag.com Hypnos Dark Labour Buzzards 1995 You can read the poems now at this link courtesy of Terror House Magazine

Publication Update | 3

Four pieces of mine are soon to be published within the upcoming months…   “Capote” and“Unknown Things” – North of Oxford – TBP on November 15th   “From Your Feet” – Pamplemousse at Northern Vermont University – TBP in their next Issue (Vol. 4, No. 2)   “Fourteen Different Sighs” – Breadcrumbs Magazine in Brooklyn -TBP this December as Breadcrumb #444

Poem of the Month | October

A Darkness in Heat   See me – a pasture of dry gold, wilde howling fire, sticky in cinder and smoked with honey melted prints imprinted to my posture and when arranged right – come alive, can be dangerous, prints can become words served up in antiquated teapots and a lost dream like the eves…

Poem of the Month | April

That Song, Like Everything, is About You   You’ve described them to me, and now I don’t know how to listen to music without knowing cock size and kinks. Maybe every song is about you, but it’s not romantic and I’m only slightly more than half interested in the story. I love you, but do…

Poem of the Month | March

Anamasis I fill the backstage with cobwebbed footwork, dressed like a dead end and painted for performance – I fill the backstage with a glare, I pop the top of a can of coke as a leather jacket fondles me with faded tattoos and the adhesive hands of a Brit who swears across stadiums everyone…