Look, the moon is out! It’s almost full moon. But it’s midday, the moon’s not su… Go away moon!

Bestow upon me wisdom So that I may forget it Once again.

Smile at me you vixen, melt me and step your red stiletto in the puddle,

Progression or depression, it depends on the portends. But never regression.

I can see you’re still bleeding. I would like to dress your wound, my wound. In my haste I now realize, I bleed too.

The words, the hate Flies, no, spurts Out of your dull mind Faster than comprehension Allows you to filter,

Ah, my sincerest apologies. I have a tendency to drop dead In front of gorgeous women.

In an instant she turned to ice. I fired myself to thaw her. But she was too cold

I shot the president and he melted into a pool of ice cream. Yummy!

Is it too much to ask for, The self being contained Under the snow of your eyes Reaching out, never quite grasping The height of the situation.

I believe music is the tragedies o… micro-dosed to us. A chord change to minor ends with us crying, a picardy third

Humanity is a tired, jaded, dirty face with bright

Around her neck Hangs an emerald line, Dotted with sun-facing flowers; Silky smooth, speaks her mind. This line brings this poet

This headache, these carpenters in my bedroom, pound my respite with no quarter. Just now, I need, despite the con…