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ghost light

the moment he turned

and walked away

our world became peckinpah

i can no longer discern

whose blood

my hands are weeping over

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contentment & vine

when you find the corner

of contentment & vine

chaos comes as a dark-eyed lover

yellow cab splashing

through the crosswalk puddle

leaving you nothing but dripping regrets

and the keys to an apartment building

still burning

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temporary light

moth to flame

it is too much to ask of existence

for it to have meaning

we greedy humans

perpetually asking why

as if we deserve an explanation

drawn to illuminating answers

like moths to flame

yet the moth knows

antennae to wing tip

there is nothing to know

but the euphoria found within

temporary light

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i am not your dirty hooker

i’m tired of being treated like a dirty hooker

because i feel free

to voice my opinions


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 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


just before

i take my leave

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when this darkness with teeth
decides to mutate
into a virus communicable
via air
which is
an evolutionary inevitability

we will see it
cure the obesity epidemic
in our country

human bug bombs will drop
from the militarized skies
over infected zones
as freely
as an october tree
sheds its walnuts

a futile effort to stop
the contagion

come to think of it
it will cure
with gaia’s fire


save one junkie cockroach
who’ll still be watchin’
a sons of anarchy marathon
and bootin’
black tar heroin

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

as you arrange dead flowers

i’ve painted all of it
on the ceiling of the library dome in alexandria
to study the profane scope

better understanding the history
the higher i ascend
through falling ashes

this is what i know

my interpretation of the pattern

you only acknowledge the sacred
as you seek to destroy it

you’re sick

you take such pride in your trophies
heads mounted on the wall
all wearing your mother’s pearls

the manner in which your
opossum eyes delight
in fresh kill

wax romantic about your bloody left hand
as you arrange dead flowers

i’m impervious ever since
you gouged out my ability
to experience pathos

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

burning flowers

if your derby hat was on fire
i would douse it
with kerosene

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

nihil obstat

since the middle ages
the catholic clergy
have raped more children
than they’ve built churches

and i fail to understand
why every diocese
has not been burned to the ground

the remaining faithful
rebuilding toward heaven
without the shadow of sin

nihil obstat

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

an impromptu exit on 55th street in Chicago

every staircase
we climbed together
led to hell

or an inferno above a thai restaurant

he had the repulsive habit
of loudly blowing his nose at each public table
at which we were seated
once clearing out an entire candle lit section
of a romantic friday night bistro
with his cloth napkin terrorism

he seemed to know he should excuse himself
but i could see that sadistic twinkle
in his eye
enjoying the disgust he inflicted

that was the point
when the southern lady i am
could tolerate no more
of the incessant rudeness

despite his massive talents
being a troll is unbecoming
even for a poet

i snapped up sharply
grabbing my clutch
snarling through clenched teeth
“You vile pig, why don’t you just take a shit on the table?”
storming toward the coat check girl
and my better sensibilities
regarding acceptable etiquette

an impromptu exit
on 55th street in Chicago

i disappeared from his life
in an old checkered yellow cab
never again to return
not even a phone call

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

white shoulders

to him
every hole
in a woman’s body
is an invitation to violence

ears are for filling with bile
the mouth is for gagging
the tongue will scream until it is cut out

lips for splitting with fists

the sex organ and anus
meant only for acts of desecration
in the temple

the stench of his sickness
mixing with old lady perfume
filling your nose

as he guts you

his final act
waxing romantic
about telling his mother
“I hope you get cancer of the eyes”

as your bride of frankenstein flesh dies

left to rot in the square
for all the pitch fork and torch bearing
townspeople to behold

yet he is overjoyed
with his trophies left behind
some red nail polish
a few lipsticks
and our clothing
hanging carcasses
in his meat locker closet
as he made sure all of us wore
his perfect dress size