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Re: spectral canyon
April 19, 2017 Poem Sixteen leave me here in my room please fuzzy pants and disastrous volcano of dirty and clean laundry pile with a garnish of cat hair disgusting ...
Apr 19, 2017 -
Re: spectral canyon
April 19, 2017 Poem Fifteen Ray Bradbury dreams in Gaiman overtones descend upon me like ink-black rocket ships descend on Mars, creatures in the craters. All morning I've searched the ...
Apr 19, 2017 -
Re: spectral canyon
April 13, 2017 Poem Fourteen My cousin slammed his fist so hard it bled on the steering wheel that night, as dry dirt clods rattled around in my chest, as ...
Apr 14, 2017 -
Re: spectral canyon
April 13, 2017 Poem Thirteen i am realizing now that i broke myself for you. it seems like the smallest kind of revelation, but a year after the fact everything ...
Apr 14, 2017 -
Re: spectral canyon
April 13, 2017 Poem Twelve I was born into the wasteland of her absence, woken from deep sleep, a statue crackling as it shifts its weight. Fingers shoved down my ...
Apr 14, 2017 -
Re: spectral canyon
April 13, 2017 Poem Eleven I am lost in the void between, listing westward over apathy, headed towards a lonely death, [maybe it's my meds talking, telling me that I ...
Apr 14, 2017 -
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April 12, 2017 Poem Ten I met you when I was drunk out of my skull and just deciding that Satan had been framed, and I'm sorry about the fight. ...
Apr 12, 2017 -
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April 12, 2017 Poem Nine Have you ever had a thought rushing to you faster than a freight train and barreling into your stomach just as hard, so the wind ...
Apr 12, 2017 -
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April 8, 2017 Poem Eight A fat cat sniffs gingerly at a box of cookies half-hidden in my closet, three white candles rise, unlit, over my rock collection, blinds open ...
Apr 9, 2017 -
Re: spectral canyon
April 7, 2016 Poem Seven 19 year-old Apollo lounges in the guitar section, sending rays of burning notes from fingertips to strings to atmosphere, mane curling around his shoulders like ...
Apr 9, 2017 -
Re: spectral canyon
April 6, 2017 Poem Six There once was a golden bat who wore a velvet hat. His appearance was so dapper that it made his friends stagger, and all the ...
Apr 7, 2017 -
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April 5, 2017 Poem Five Framed demons aren't in my vocabulary, and yet when incense smoke burns your eyes, you see flame under my feet, horns sprouting from my brow. ...
Apr 5, 2017 -
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April 4, 2017 Poem Four
Apr 5, 2017 -
Re: spectral canyon
April 3, 2017 Poem Three It is never quite daytime in hotel parking lots. Old grease wafts from the Wendy's crouched behind rows of dormant cars. I do not know ...
Apr 5, 2017 -
Re: spectral canyon
April 2, 2017 Poem Two The most growing up I ever did was in 2007, surrounded by a rash of romanticism and black eyeliner. Internet culture cut deep as junior ...
Apr 2, 2017