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Poof* Take MY water

Americana analysis art behavior crime death education humanity punk religion

opposite the sky

for the entirety of my existence

i have wondered why

evangelicals cling so lovingly

to heaven as a tupperware party

and hell as an infinite cesspool of punishment

opposite the sky

…it is for these reasons

they need to believe there is a reward for the suffering humans endure


that there exists a place


tailor made for the evil person thriving amongst us

a place for them


than a village filled with the swollen bellies

of fly covered dying children


than one of hitler’s gas chambers


than a vivisection tent during the civil war

where slave women had there genitals

hacked apart by confederate doctors


than the screams and stench of a chicago

slaughter house in 1879


than the hands of a pedophile


than the greasy mouth of a politician






Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

because snake oil doesn’t offer a retirement plan

con-artists hustle
jive and shuck
til the day they die
because snake oil
doesn’t offer a retirement plan

i once had an old lady charlatan in middletown
who was trying to invade my wallet
by attempting to convince me
that she
was psychic
she could deliver messages from my father
if i wanted
that she could speak to the dead

she went by the name carmen
but her real name was brenda brewer
which made her less than mystic

the authentic require no gimmicks

she said the afterlife was like the movie ghost
they’re walking around us and aware
we just can’t see them

my response was this:

if you’re truly psychic
you already know i’m not giving you money
and as to the ghosts of the dearly departed
walking amongst us aware

what was to be learned or gleaned from that
other than how often the living close their doors
to masturbate

find some unquestioning sucker
to sell your sloppy wares

poetry Uncategorized

musing medusa

this medusa
harbors no illusions

i know
my face will soon be emblazoned
upon the shield of athena

but oh, perseus,
such a magnificent time we had
unleashing pegasus and chryasoar
from my womb
into the world
your sword the midwife
my little gifts from poseidon
after his night holding me down
in the temple

my snake tattooed neck
veritable, indeed
does miss being attached to my slinky body

these men who sought the enchantment inside my head
who dared my fatal gaze
crossing mountains tops
with a plan to die
remain a species of statue
not fully unraveled into stone

they are a sort
who despite there stillness
summon the water
to weep