There is a gay man I don’t want in my bed,which doesn’t leave me much room, but the snow is falling, and you are calling.I told you on that balcony,I’m gonna be, gonna be, slutty,I don’t want commitments.
Post Type Archives: Poems
Untitled #504 (2014)
Here in this midwest,we got this mold cling sort of rot to us,this aging death.And love, you ‘n I, we got it.It’s all just click clackin’ away towards– –the big hand ‘n the little hand facin’ up at us, judgin’ for all the ____ we missed.‘n those lips,‘n those lips.
Untitled #503 (2014)
Old buildings with their lag tired sag focus in off the horizon,that grand old Mississippi frost nippin’ ‘n wave lappin’ it’s cranky course. Hopped right off the plane– worked eight hours cuttin’ ‘n paintin’ ‘n all them there-abouts to buildin’.Brick-front buildings that have had more jobs than occupants,everything repurposed or abandoned,ain’t anything, ain’t …
Untitled #502 (2014)
low flung clouds have gone and chopped of the top of the mount,and here I am,here I am still climb, climb, climbin’ away,but the sunset, it looks so beautiful from here,orange and yellow heaven-held beams etching themselves. But the sunset. But the sunset. Love, …
Untitled #501 (2014)
This is a poem.Yep.
Untitled #50 (2015)
Poetry is looking at a blank page and having no idea what the fuck you’re going to say; it’s that feeling of a vast world that deserves attention from those far more talented than you, but they are silent, and you are here.
Untitled #499 (2014)
Give me time,listen to the drum-beat-silence.
Untitled #498 (2014)
Wakin’ up with them head-spins,wretch-chuggin’ water from the tap,shower-churned and just hopin’ just hopin’ it all stays down.Paste ‘n mouthwash ‘n a little more mouthwash.it ain’t, it ain’t congruent. there’s this …
Untitled #497 (2014)
Sex takes less than an hour,even with the best of stamina.In the time it takes to watch Mel Gibson pretend to save the Scottish,I could fuck you at least three times. Over ‘n done, over n’ done,that ain’t the way of it.I could fuck you three times,and it could be the longest three hours you’ve …
Untitled #496 (2014)
you’ve never smoked a cigarette after a sleepless night, watching the mist creep back into the trees. watching the haze slowly evaporate, to reveal nothing more. you’ve never stared tired and aching out a window into California mountains, gray skies and muffled blankets of snow, …
