o, eve (scraps)
I am your spoken truth I am something wide written in every book of matches I am an awful note in here I am an obscene ghost in a house and the lights don’t work give me the reverent war name of an omnipotent dadaist or teach me reverence toward everything mysterious and even if vengeance doesn’t sound like a very big word it does scale up to an unbearably impressive size
I’ve been hired into retail.
11. the top ten visions of hell
4. childlike idiot savant with ideal anxieties 5. underweight author who knows how to live 14. a madman and a danger to society 16. who cannot be sincerely apologetic 6. polar disparity / misery’s shitstorm 5. delirium delirium delirium lost it
off as a
it is miracle enough that a heaven should exist I need not be granted entry floating, such as I am, exhausted wandering a maze of red light districts I live, set apart in bars, and jump from bridgetops to riverbeds searching for some reliable fix I find, instead, the ineffable smack of a body hot into water the recital as the rush of trees or garbage rustling at my feet for the wild...
good as (scraps)
it is miracle enough that a heaven should exist I need not be granted entry floating, such as I am, exhausted gained and crassed in turpentine wandering a maze of red light districts I live set apart in bars and jump from bridgetops to riverbeds in search of some reliable fix finding instead the ineffable smack of a body into water the recital as the rush of trees or the garbage rustling at my...
Bastards and Angels on high.
I was raised by my father, and my father was a brilliant man. my father taught me about the negative space of my life; what we don’t fight. what we knew. what I don’t care. what your type. I live in a room named three oh two five. most time spent in increments exposing the innocence of certain secret ceremonies. soft moments made naked and atomic. I provide care to the blind, the deaf...
endgame recital dream, one day and one night. a bird on your shoulder and another clenched tight in your fist. walking down railroad tracks on a cold foggy morning, bashing the rails with a short iron pole, being interviewed on CNN. so sincerely augmented, applying the public’s understanding of one business’s practices to explain the bankruptcy of another. the all too private...
every god is the apocalypse for me casually named dropped antichrists languid desert deus ex machina errors in time and space with something certain about them of the pharmaceutical comforts with eyes that give you vertigo eyes that piss off your maker they’re not serious, they’re only iconic they only tell you what you want to hear all things underspoken such that all...