it misses the way we use to sit and breathe together inhaling and exhaling
THE ARTIST constantly trying to get somewhere he
a best friend to kings faith substitutes for justice god will keep us poor
it was the hottest new spot on the east side of course and of course
race against midnight an eleventh hour dash for the quick finish
long begrimed with dust a floor looking for a broom love me for my scuffs
you took leave of Egypt for southwest Tennessee the African sun left for the warmth of Sun Record… i commend the move you made
if the fairy spreads her thighs for the goblins finger the happy ending never comes even if she does
a man can be no more ready for Feb… than he is for his own death bringing in the second wave of win… icy flakes whipping in the wind relentlessly low temperature
sipping cocktails in a dark corner… lit with cigarettes and neon we edged ourselves closer to the end of our stools to the end of our drinks
Life is a series of tragedies with… But what is good for those who suf… than what is good for those who do… —for Brian Salvador Curley
heaven throw me out but i’m keeping the halo you should have no doubt i am ready for limbo so hold me
now when I say “forever” I don’t mean too
voices spread through the room like butterflies or wildfires inspiring some to try a new way of thinking
for one minute my clock dreamed of infinity forever stood still in a timeless moment hidden from death and deadlines
