poetry

Salvation from the wood chipper:chime in any time you see fit

Murdering somber melancholy funeral book dreams in the face with a shiny new kitchen pairing knife

They stole my backpack

Marcel Proust- Questionnaire:

Forced entry to the back door, requesting keyholder:I overstep my boundaries once again

Late is the dying evening hours star and the white marrow ribcage crushing lust in her teardrop daydream birdcage eyes

Devotion downed like a fifth of vodka

Ways changing stoplights refract through rainy winshields and smear

Centaurea cyanus white embroidered blouse; what color is this shade of spouse?

Knoxville, Tennessee

If this is love i don’t want it

No ones more hungry for your touch than i

Beauty balanced upon a perch all it’s own

Coffee, tea kettle, turncoat

You slayed me, never so slightly with a savory electronic touch