Poetic Prelude: [Ineffable Might] {88} 1! I have to get through tonight. Through mid-tredarious forward assaults on the best of my iron vest incites. My failure of amorous insight I like best, The hole in the hollow, the pump that replaced the very black heart you stole from my mostly tumultuous chest. Mm-hmhm. The pretend of a sigh, I know not the reason the rest of us feast while beyond citadel gates the rest of them die. You have no idea how I try, when each time, each slight, each break of a promise of long life to come presides … Continue reading Ineffable Might, Poem 88

  From Somewhere With Love   I walked until the boardwalk ended and toppled complacently into delirium tremens, Take your salt pills!! She fucked to barely feed herself; On the top of the mount, On the silk of the sheets of those lowest of lying, American hills, Civilization, hyper development when man was the hunter, the broad was the target, But also the spoiler of kills. There’s blood in my eye, You left me alone in the provinces, you cursed me for nothing, and left me to die. I once told that girl what a forest wife was, She heard … Continue reading From Somewhere With Love (54)

  # 50: Havana Road   We could be in Havana by nightfall. It’s what I’ve been whispering for years. If I could just trade a pound of my flesh for just one single ounce of your tears.   Bloody paw marks cross my face! Self-inflicted. Lash marked loved one; I am so careless for you. Dug my own American grave in a record time, the scary parts of our company is that most of our stories are true. Avail me of your sling shot eyes, Last cartridge spent. Temptation looks like you. But, sin-not-simple-sinner! Your thighs delight the treachery … Continue reading Havana Road (#50)

#042: Bullets for Breria (Moscow Hostage Crisis Part II.) I.   “Companero!” She says to he: “Just how far will you take your love for me?” “I don’t know.” “What-don’t-you-know?” “Is_love-just-another useless-word-in-english-to-tie-together-all-my longing_ and absolve the pastness of its evil woe?” “Balkinera!” He says to she:   “Why do you hide your past_from the demons in me?”   “Vasili!” What’s there to say to you: “Why does your name change like the seasons and who-do-you-as-of-lately-pray-to?”   “I’ll pray to anyone I can! God or human! Haitian Creole or oracle Greek. My, mind’s prophesy has failed me lately_ and just this … Continue reading Bullets for Breria (#042)

#038     Moscow Hostage Crisis   Part One       Life of the slave show! I will remove you from your castle and make you watch the way we live in the wilderness below.   And she slips off her high heels into a star-crossed stare down, She always calls the shots, Gun shots to blood soaked makeshift cots. The shots she calls are complicated. She must find me highly dedicated. She mostly deals with the haves, and I am the have nots.   The rules are anything goes, but no know one “knows”. If she’s been known … Continue reading #38; Moscow Hostage Crisis

#012: Muse of the Brighton Bathhouse         I interrogated you with Newport cigarettes pursed at my lips. And you sized me up like a slave on the market block.   Emergently my covered wagon has been jettisoned and set ablaze by a blonde haired savage, a mercenary in clad multicolored finery with war paint under both blue eyes.   Brandishing a spear and also a bottle of Russian Standard.   She’s since infused my life with her Red Bull risings and cynical parables on the subject of snow ball fighting with General Winter.   “Drink!” she whispers out … Continue reading #12; Muse of the Brighton Bathhouse