a man who tries to possess the moo… would understandably be called arrogant a man who tries to possess the sun would rightfully be told he was

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

there will plenty of time to be si… when the abyss avalanches down upo… burying you deep into eternal abse… so raise your voice while you stil… because even if you can’t yell tom…

i entered into my junior high poet… with such a sense of excitement to share the craft that i had disc… just a couple years earlier a craft that my gramma had

submerged so deeply in abysmal woes of self he makes his last choice

he lights one last flame home is where the burning is bed of devil’s rest

panic is my dance partner and

now when I say “forever” I don’t mean too

Charles with his typewriter and bottles a bluebird held hostage in his hea… all the women he wanted all the jobs he didn’t

we all trip over our own comfort and wherever we land is the lie we build a home on whatever love is we only do it when we have to

bills soaring like birds costs of living get higher income, falls from nest

decorated in soft skin vines of fire drape around her fireproof face my eyes kneel in worship of a goddess passing by

the best shelf in town bartenders driving the drunks home

she passes a man but her scent is the full moon and a wolf follows

voices spread through the room like butterflies or wildfires inspiring some to try a new way of thinking