My rage is nauseous. And helplessness sustains it.



I don’t know
if I want to
Subject you
To the danger
That comes with
Falling in love
Just stay right here
And let me stroke your hair
In the morning
And kiss you goodnight

the dogs growl
beneath my skin
so i appease them
with the pens i have
instead of teeth

i feed paper
into my mouth
and tear the
flesh of the word
from the bone
i dig out
the marrow
of each syllable
with ballpoint savagery
while reeking piles
of word guts
surround my naked body

i bathe in the
immediacy and stench
of them
and spit out
jagged fragments
of paper
to tell the rabid truth
of ink and sinew


You are, you have always been, and you will always be enough.

Tags: yes you


what do you call and say to people
when you are in hell?
what do you write to say to people
when you are in hell?

there are no words
hell has eaten them all

and dreams, desires, beauties?

is it possible to give birth
to such gifts
only to watch them all
suffer and drown
in the anger of hell?

no, not at all

those things too are left for the livers,
the less broken

a prayer against the illness of our loved ones


darkness, rise up and come to me
i, who seek the lowest of places,
have known you by your many names
not the least of which is suffering

i have saved another dance for you
and you know this is where you belong
here in me

i am a warrior and a killer
just like you
you also know me
by my many unspoken names
not the least of which is alive

come make that otherwise

you want me
you live for my demise

i want you
i crave you deep inside of me, reaperman

let’s have another go at it

that one is a dalliance and no concern of yours
my need for them forbids your presence

i deny you the right of first refusal

set to rights the vessel you currently distress
and come back to your home in my heart

arise, my love, and return to me
let us recommence this game we have played
since before i can remember

i miss your company
i miss your touch
i miss the searing need to destroy
you lacquer over the entirety of my being

warrior to warrior, i call you back home
our need to finish each other
is the epic endeavor you seek
let us write an ages-old saga
about agony by blood and by blow

let us begin again
our well-justified reciprocal hatred
to deepen even the darkest night
and frighten away the stars above

our time is now

Tags: poetry

it was so quiet
i thought the night
was sleeping

i am enwombed
in darkness

daisy kisses

daisy kisses

i remember when he said
desolation made his mother
forget how to dream

so she would lay hands on
the top of the television
to feel the power
of holy rolling

he flows through the night
like it was made for him
as if it were birthed
by the absence of light
solely to envelop him

as rain bridged the distance
between earth and sky