Beasts of Articulation

She will,
only become,
aware of,
the severity,
in the things,
that she,
has insistently,
gone and done,
when she admits,
to the obvious shifts,
in the gazes of,
the Almighty Ones;
she will,
finally be outdone,
deep inside of,
the smoking barrel,
of a black market gun,
will she submit,
to the things,
that she’s let,
grow into beasts?
Or will,
the darkness,
swallow her,
in totality,
just to make,
itself regurgitate,
her existence,
the day will come,
a day that makes,
today seem sweet,
like times of joy,
full of ease,
gobble them,
swallow them,
get down,
on your knees,
a day will come,
that defines suffering.

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Partners in Crime

Mocking Bird Down


Minds alight, we fight the fight, even
when we are overlapping each others dreams.
Dreams of different faces, different places, but
still back to back, on the attack, and irreversibly linked.
Blue and green, like the northern lights,
Untouchable, and wanted.
Forged by the universe and the
stars that aligned in passing, long enough so that
as the night sky suffocated the day
we made eye contact and the rest was
Pinky swear? With sewn on fingers,
lost in die hard losing of bets, with guns in the air
and the smell of burning rubber telling us where
to go. Where to run. Where to point the barrel.
The lamb and the bear, cuffed to the same chair, we
will always be. Always share, and always know,
how long to hold our breaths, beneath the surface
of the explosions of the tides, until we can hide
In the…

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For “Mr. Strange Triip”

For Someone Who Hurts.

For Someone Who Hurts.

Postcards from Freedom #2 – We Be In The Tropics, Fuckhead.

We Be in the Tropics, Fuckhead.

We Be in the Tropics, Fuckhead.

Sheets of Plastic? (For the Bear Trainer)

Sheets of Plastic ( For the Bear Trainer)

Sheets of Plastic ( For the Bear Trainer)

Americana and Boo








Postcards from Freedom – Smile Again Someday.

Smile Again.

Nobody Moves, Nobody Gets Hurt.

nobody moves nobody gets hurt