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Read MoreHome is where you are chipping the stoneto grave applause a look in the eyeswhen the lights go down awake to crouching (sure) ~the stars are not right for a place in.betweendilated paranoia, a mawkish glassfor snorting pastwith a...
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Read MoreBlood in: so daft in my grave, a fresh-cut flesh-nutslips & falls into proverbial groove through an open vein- this sleepaway cavecraved awakeon chords of lightthrough ancient rowswhere I soak my cellsin the green sereneslurping gasoline a break from thoseunblinking high beam ~eyes at nonsense rituals cleaving clean: this all-seeing dreamwinked at...
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This gives me the scene of a poet upon a stage, reciting their words to an eager crowd. I have a feeling that reciting it makes it stronger. A voice that knows where the bullets go.
Strong write. Awesomely done.