darkness dwells inside anger tremblesa lull in my speech means I am thinkingdevouring the light which shinesshrinking psychedelic thinkingstrobes of misery spinmy thoughts expandwith ideas of hurt to recallmy mind looks at the worldgood with fangs and clawsthe dark...

Day And Night in the Hot South     A strange scent, like vanilla transports us to an exotic land where birds of paradise warble and the whippoorwill sings a lonely song.     In the muscadine wine dusk, we two souls sit...

A flower of imperfection, I am, waning with the passing seasons.  Springtime flowers budding to summertime flowering.  this fall time senescence  to wintertime death.  Black flower of psychosis, withering in bloom and beauty withering.  The season of fresh hallucinations  is indeed upon me!