Category: Poetry

Did you hear that? Hear what? Listen! Wha… What the fuck was that? A door slams. (When I was a kid in high school, a friend and I ran by and slammed the door of a music hall.) After meditation, a man says to me that he’s really been picking up on the spirits around…… Continue reading Haunted Friday Morning

Sometimes at a brick wall, I remind myself how I started out as a writer—as a note taker, a list maker fiend. It was only until I was well into my third or fourth zine that I started focusing on becoming more literary, what to speak of entertaining the notion of being a poet. Why…… Continue reading I Still Love The World

Drugs have a power and a way of altering thought, which is sometimes necessary. They should be used as medicine, to heal. In excess, drugs are detrimental. A thought itself is a drug that can be interchanged at will, provided you are awake, capable, and strong. In a sense, straightedge, the idea to abstain from…… Continue reading The Drug, The Idea, The Self

recovery day a brush with something bad but I insist this is a day for getting back up to speed what facsinates me you catch a bad wind the immune system starts fighting bringing everything back online to experience a fever means things are ultimately in order bed making me sore pained another day off…… Continue reading Small Day

the window left open through the night I develop a cold wake sneezing continue to do so and there is no escape from its grasp sneezes like hammers hammer home interruptions I hit some coffee go back to the car and decide to visit Memorial Park for, really, the first time just walk up the…… Continue reading The Gravelly Trail

I remember them the days fit up over each other cold the cold ones we begged for so when summer crept out like at five in the afternoon after having watched a ton of movies we grew sick with cold and felt sorry regret same as we burned sick in Texas heat and below sea…… Continue reading Made To Cry

Bukowski’s women Jay Leno’s women Bill Clinton’s women the women in the library the women above you the women below you and the women in the library… reminding you of your fines from the sky and false fires, and those coming out with a secret to the press a symphony mistake all the blue angels…… Continue reading From The Sky

arguably I can read out poetry drunken or otherwise sometimes preferably buzzed on point loud, too loud, just right ‘cuz I have my off nights but more on than off ya know? an old friend of mine is just starting out with this who I see a lot of potential in who reminds me much…… Continue reading Mirror Up