Cold shaped eyes stare
from the bottom of the well.
Day: February 26, 2017
Mania
Mania is sweeping
My front door step,
is dancing a jig on my lawn.
My blood is caffeine.
All my colors are hotter than yours.
They burn me,
and turn me on
like a sick freak lover with a cigarette
Filthy and Pure
Sex is like the syrup I smother my pancakes with.
Sex is smothering until your toes curl,
being Emperor Palpatine to goodness.
Lick me like the last orange juice in the glass.
Oh I am candid.
Oh I am sure.
I will burn stars in your eyes
I will be filthy and pure
Revolution
A ladder leans against a frightened wall.
Baffled, the chair still waits for a piece of ass.
See the mobs bare brained fury.
The calligraphy of torch light against suspicious dark?
Motherhood
Temperatures checked.
Photos printed.
Feet kissed.
The components of motherhood are sweet,
uncensored.
Language
Ermine sentences burrow in the dark
in the field where no one listens.
I will dig them up,
roll them in my palms,
use and abuse them.
Politics
Politics
The powers that be
are skipping rope on my dead lawn
are high on a Sunday.
Hold the Kool Aid.
Hold your nose.
Now drink deep.
The Saccharine Weight of Responsibility
Ribbons of dreams are wrapped around my wrists.
pressure so sweet.
The saccharine weight of responsibility
straddles my chest.
Don’t free me from my desires
to feed me to my needs.
Depression II
Serrated sight stabs
the letters of my name.
My face is hooked to a vacuum
sucking my breath.
Why are the worst battles noiseless?
Domestic Violence
Domestic Violence
She is a reluctant dreamer,
afraid of who she’ll see tonight
beneath her eyelids.
Outside you wait with muscles and wolves,
and a knife that only turns in the dark.
Your name is on a sealed record somewhere playing over and over.
Your hand is a voodoo doll.
Watch her bend when you close your fingers.
Miniature Moon 