prose poem

October 16, 2019

One of these seconds

I often wonder about nothing; Sometimes I wonder about something, but mostly i just wonder about Hell and my place in it or on it if Hell is Earth and other people Worlds within worlds within worlds. Worlds come and go. Four births happen each second of every day and...

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October 13, 2019

My postmodern sex goddess

Giving Aphrodite a run for her rubies would have been easy for you, you are, after all, a postmodern sex goddess. I tried to penetrate the day, but the hours skipped ahead somehow removed from where we sat watching reruns of the Real World. I thought about Puck. Where did...

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June 8, 2018

the pulse of 3am hits me

I have to quit being anonymous inside the machine…artificial space in a dreamlike dimension…the pulse of 3am hits me inside the unconscious sea…a voyage below…subway empty…closing haunted spaces…this lack of a beginning divides me in the light under the flare of a system flooded by the black sun…time interval of...

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May 3, 2018

Zombied out on fear

my friends gave me a medal for digging a hole with my bare hands and walking on water like the messiah when she was lonely and thirsty for politicians, generals, and reporters locking and loading the sign of the cross gave me goosebumps and butterflies like before a big football...

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April 24, 2018

Not again hippie

Not again hippie. I have my own identity problems to deal with. Every crasher’s got to remember the rain. The girl I was into approached everybody. She was outside complaining. The rain got heavier. I wasn’t dissapointed; it certainly was a treat. She was like a classic journey into Hell...

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April 9, 2018

Black Drones

The puppets dance in dark alleys Black drones drop messages across of the battlefield, singing we kill, we kill, we kill Give us form without substance There was something common in our guess work You blow apart my childhood fantasies with delight From the songbirds below the earth to the...

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September 14, 2017

To The Other Side

Let’s make a run for the spectators who hesitated at the moment of freedom, sacrificed all the books, all the paintings and the music. Burnt the old culture to the ground. It’s an impossible situation. The old gods formed a circle, held hands, sang Kumbaya until the lady with the...

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February 17, 2009

snakes

The treacherous fucking snakes will sell you out in a heartbeat although you might not be watching them, they sure as fuck are watching you, waiting for an opportunity to bite your heel and watch you fall and wriggle in the dirt crutching your heart and yelling, “Et tu Brute?”

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