I love the devil— not for his fire, but for the warning he carries.   The darkest minds can hide behind the brightest smiles. Teeth clean. Eyes kind. Hands open like they mean no harm.   I learned that goodness is not always gentle-looking, and evil does not always arrive loud. Sometimes...

He sat in the doorway  Of the dead superstore  The rain fell over the night  His guitar has no strings  He plays on Feeling the notes Strumming the rhythm  No sound but the rain He moans out the chords  To the empty street  Muffled by the rain

A ritual dissection of a malfunctioning oracle I. The Opening of the Cardigan...The autopsy begins not with a scalpelbut with the unbuttoning of Tonal Grump’s cardigana garment woven from misfired metaphors and verbs that refused to conjugate. Inside the lining, the examiners...

     “Each tattoo carved in flesh made him wince in painBut he, welcomed the disfigurement without regret or shame,      “In the distance the sound of sand cascaded like a waterfallWith snake like movements down skull decorated...

within me, without me I miss youseeking secrecy of feelingthen so callous when it comesendearing charm, your nature, and mine togetherWell aware you have othersBut that you wanted one like me surprises mereserved a special place for me, in...