F SHARP

A girl once said (about you) that “D**** will sing in a way that makes me feel like he has his hand in my chest cavity gently caressing my dying heart.” This was some time last week, and I remember stopping and rereading those two short lines over and over – considering stealing part of…

NAILED Magazine

re(mix) has been published by NAILED Magazine. I am so stoked to have a publication of this magnitude pick up my work. Go check it out! And share if you can.

Foliate Oak Literary Magazine

My poem North has been published with Foliate Oak Literary Magazine. Click on the picture and you’ll be redirected to their site.

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…

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 | August

Whose Hustle I look like the homeless, in Grateful Dead in unbrushed, in dingy coffee mug and the same native man makes five trips around the block selling silver and onyx, peeking in store windows, asking me if I’m interested I can respect the hussle, but dont make me yell at you about my fucking…

Poem of the Month | May

Rubble Girl   I had written this somewhere, on a napkin I think   “I am the underground”, I say, as I am rubble, as I forget to mention that I detonate into existence to a whistle of bats, the rev of my mutation, I upgrade,   Pick myself up every day, meet my barrier,…