Categories
affectation Americana crime film forensics funerals journalism mythology nightmares poetry punk rituals travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice war writing

lore

just a man

drag off a cigarette smirk

a walking shell game

snake in a can

so backwards in life

one questions

reports of his death

yet

he would crookedly smile

calling it

legend

Categories
activism art astronomy behavior belief cemeteries destruction ecology epidemeology humanity journalism life mindfulness mythology nightmares pandemics poetry politics pop culture punk science writing shooting stars technology travel writing writing

Does this look infected?

who knew

the 6th mass extinction

on the planet

would be set into motion

not by a furious comet

instead thrown into chaos

by an insidious cloud

of misinformation

(que piano music)

Categories
Uncategorized

pretty little things

there’s a girl downtown

gets passed around

she’s early twenties

but plays smaller

she hallucinates snakes

as demons prey on her

there’s a girl downtown

she walks around

bare from the waist down

hacks at her own hair

is fond of defecating on sidewalks

but the winos and scum

buy her pretty little things

so they don’t feel guilty

after

Categories
activism addiction Americana analysis art behavior civility crime education journalism literature poetry psychology punk sociology Southern Gothic war writing

i am not your dirty hooker

i’m tired of being treated like a dirty hooker

because i feel free

to voice my opinions

joke

use clever little double entendres

assert myself as a woman

who admires the human form

both male and female

and shockingly

even my own voluptuous body

so i have dared to post photos of it

.

write poems

produce art

which express my feelings freely

.

i’m tired of waking up every morning

to private messages on facebook

from seemingly educated

and mostly married men

left in a drunken stupor

or on a predatory whim

hey baby

wanna fuck

cunt dick pussy

or various combinations thereof

.

no

no i don’t

nor do i want you to cum on my face

or any other part of my body

.

these digital pussies wouldn’t have the balls to behave in such a way

to my face

but social media and the internet

removes the barrier of decorum

it invites subterfuge, sickness, and depravity

desecration becomes acceptable

redefines morays

.

i have a folder in which i keep

eight years worth of facebook sexual violations

for legal record

which contains 71 unwanted dick pics

and two sets of tits

let’s not leave out the ladies

.

i have one creep who leaves nasty messages on my blog

using several different names

but the idiot doesn’t know

i traced his ip address

preparing for war

in a folder of every infraction

funny how serious they take internet stalking these days

.

and he’s not the first

and he won’t be the last

but this is a defect

of the information age

.

the criminal inside your home

invited by your mere existence

.

i didn’t ask for any of this

.

but i refuse to be less me

to accommodate their disease

.

this behavior speaks to the abuser

the vile betrayer

and says nothing about me

.

but what i will no longer do

is be polite

for the sake of decorum and decency

as these individuals

have never extended

those courtesies to me

.

so the next time you feel so inclined

prepare for the my wrath

prepare to receive

exactly what you deserve

vengeance

just before

i take my leave

Categories
Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

it rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again

veiled in toxicity
and the lipstick of a shriveled aging whore
with chanel no.9 blotted behind your ears
cock tucked back
dancing
silvery smith & wesson in hand
in all your demented wonder and glory
have once again done me a service

you make me grateful
for white bread
the certainty of his and hers bath towels
G-rated movies
generic colas
the flat ohio cornscape
encased in crooked rivers
crowned by the wreckage
of the edmund fitzgerald
acoustic versions
4/4 timing
and the primary colors learned in preschool

i could have been your most tragic victim