Don't put your tootsies in, or swim in my jacuzzi and get your own Manischewitz,keeping the Citronella bug lights burning as I promote my tango, sideswiping Poeand the Keebler Elves...they don't know shit about decay and Annette Funicello,my muse...

...who the walls, crawling through my mindeach kiss a graffiti, of mortal sins masturbatingbut listens, but walls, without mouth or tongue,ghosting whores pulling me deeper into insanitywith a lullaby for my gothic ink, bleeding my soulwith plastered tattoos while...

What is The Point of Such BeautyWhen she entered a room shewould alwaysstand out and light up like some  kind of feature ..Indeed, she then had, withoutany doubt whatsoever,an abundance of outstandingbeauty and charm  not to mention, buckets of...

In painted ink, with charcoal tones, I confess waiting for Charon.The water too thick for the crossing, watching the gray rise. A single, distant, sickly gas lamp stabs at the gloom, offering notlight, but a suggestion of form—a spectral...