Come.

Come see me –

this night;

in my dark cornered dreams

I beg of you to make me scream;

Come touch me –

Once more;

sweat your saliva from my pores

cut the wire and kick in the door;

Come stay with me –

come closer; revive;

wake me up until I come alive

let me feed the carnivorous side;

Come with me –

come in; confide;

touch every steaming hot place inside

never look into my crying eyes;

Come ruin me –

this night;

see my body writhe beneath

Come tonight and leave me empty.

In Your Headlight Beams.

It occurs to me –
that, quite possibly –
there’s a solid reason behind,
these repeated failures of mine,
when I once again can’t find what I seek;
Perhaps it is simply that he –
isn’t out there after all, for me –
it’s gone well beyond the time,
to accept with heart and mind,
that I stand in that lonely line of reality;
Maybe I have finally seen that such things –
are blessings bestowed upon other human beings –
and now I feel like the same old fool again,
in the skin of a bitter and aging woman,
the wide-eyed doe in your headlight beams.

Solo Banter.

It doesn’t matter,
which title a day goes by…
I’ll end it alone.

Doesn’t get better,
by drinking the liquor dry…
before stumbling home.

Quiets the chatter,
let’s a few moments pass by…
between being thrown.

Blends in the banter,
with all the spit in my eye…
all I’ve ever known.

Ocean of Trash.

Since everyone else has their’ hands out –
patting other backs,
ill-humored wise cracks,
“Well Done, Bad Ass!”…
let me be sure that I’m sure –
to fit into the mass;
to expel –
all that goes unwell
as I pass,
I notice the line of faceless blood vessels –
waiting along the tracks,
that make a body intact,
“Hello? Anyone home?”…
open the fucking door –
to the last-ditch,
burnt bitch –
mysterious panic hatch,
the Gods have not yet left me alone on my knees –
begging for scraps,
starved of the pats to my back,
“Get up and walk, dumbass!”
it is Life, itself –
just ONE great, long pass;
through one Hell
in an ocean of trash.

Fugue.

Temper-treated,
pressed ‘n pleated,
pre-disposed and superseded,
diagnosed,
but poorly heeded,
over-psychiatrically treated,
super-imposed,
pin-up prose,
cake-layer completed,
centrally distributed,
locally re-heated,
self-stimulated,
pseudo-violated,
over-chewed,
nearly spewed,
swallowed up,
oh fuck – regurgitated,
won’t sit well,
if stacked up to,
the tried and true,
another epic fail,
shoddily fabricated,
horizontally situated,
systematically nauseated,
linguistically and verbally inebriated,
an atrocity,
a featherless Crane,
singed into the brain,
of the Herring,
a forsaken queen,
been busy,
out bone-collecting,
well beyond her means,
never satiated,
by her plundering,
blindly placated,
by the obsolete,
of the broken-spirited,
broken down,
rotted through,
to an army paraded,
beneath the sole of my shoe.

Come.

Come see me –

This night;

in my darkened corner dreams

I beg of you to make me scream;

Come touch me –

Once more;

Sweat your saliva from my pores

Cut the wires and kick in the doors;

Come stay with me –

Come closer; revive;

Eat me up until I come alive

Let me feed your carnivorous side;

Come with me –

Come in; confide;

Touch every steaming hot place inside

Never look into my crying eyes;

Come ruin me –

This night;

Take away your warmth from me

Come tonight and leave me empty.

Postcards from Freedom – Smile Again Someday.

Smile Again.