Of all the stars in the sky,
you were the loudest, the brightest,
the one that spoke my name,
the one that kept me sane,
the one that was the light to guide me home.

Of all the stars in the sky,
you’ll be the one I always treasure, forever,
the one that made me laugh,
the one that made me cry,
the one that eventually made it all worthwhile.

*When love seems to have faded, we’re just lost in the confusion, the anger, the stress, but the love is always there waiting to be uncovered once more. When we feel as though we’re drowning, if we try a little harder, we’ll find the shore, it’s not too far, love, we’ll get there, sooner or later.

If you need 
to see how old

I really am

just take a sharp blade

to my middle

and count the ring-
worms inside.

I’ve been keeping

my words, lately,

somewhere other

than here,

here where

my throat itches

with the dusty pollen

of verbal pollution

with every click.
You are beautiful,

so too are your words,

they could paint the sky,

and I could paint you

white.


What’s the point?

I’m finding satisfaction

in separation of self

from symbolism

and I would ask you

all to join me.

How many rings

did you find?

I am nearly 100-years

and a few more days

and I’m having a hard time

swallowing.


I keep choking

on air. That’s how old

I really am.

I keep a journal

in the dirt

but it keeps washing away

but at least the rain

doesn’t equate my fragments

to my figure.

At least the sun

has the decency to apologize

for burning bits of me

into the earth.

In the burning right hand of the bald city,
denizens frame calories and count instagram blessings
while beacons of hope refund inspiration in USADA *** cups.

Abyssinian maids wail over yesterday lovers
who wore Ginsberg’s skirt with less  pizzazz
and watched bedbugs **** blood off knee caps
wondering, what if Jesus Christ drove a Nissan?

As bullets of paragraphs fall Vietnamese pesticides on my head,
The dusts off my breath sing homilies
With letters of broken leather whiskey,
For even in the most dishonest jest,
clandestine toothbrushes are overrated
and every first false lie is the only truth.