An Old Gramophone Lullaby for the Midnight Orchid of the BoweryI love Central Park in the Fall. The city feels fresher and cleaner for some reason. As I walked past the Zoo, I heard a kid crying. I remembered...

A dead or dying treeI’m sure just spoke to meAbout a secret skill called “letting go.”And further on my morning walkA leaf fell down to have a talkTo tell me what I certainly should know. In whispers soft as newborn’s...

sadness snuggles me and I slip into her embraceshe is a heavy lady with a lot to saymy heart sinks then singsblue emotions slip over mewith an awakening I realize, I've been in denialhonesty in the moment is vitalhurt...

darkness wells you disturb the thick achespitting ludacris needinfernally bound and betrothedsuccor given in your fitful stormyour lust seducesyour anger compelsnow my dear approachsinister danger in your stareconniving tongue dripping poisonlet me taste your disturbiaoccult desire conjures mebaleful passion...