activism addiction horror Uncategorized

fuck you, all the same

as the days pile up

flash bulb memories

are what i remember

of the alcoholic father

the alcoholic first husband

the drunken loss of a decade with the blue eyes

it may be a disease but that makes you no less vile as a person

there’s no excuse for

trembling as my dad threw a giant television set out the front door into the yard

stairs turning upside down as the father of my sons headbutted me into submission

for wanting to leave his dysfunctions

threats of handguns and bodybags

that’s booze soaked rage

a blitzkrieg of anger

a pot boiled over

every tea kettle in the world simultaneously

spitting steam


Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

i can say this if i call it art

do you remember holding me down on the floor
and blowing cigarette smoke in my face
then spitting on me and slapping me repeatedly?

do you remember tearing my clothes off
and throwing me out the front door
because i wanted to take my children and leave
your sickness?

do you remember the way you would squeeze my throat until my eyes bulged out saying
you cunt i know how to not leave marks?

do you remember saying if i got away from you
you would hunt down everyone i love and kill them and then you would kill me in front of our sons so they would know what their dirty bitch mother had coming to her?

do you remember slapping our boys in the face repeatedly
snot and tears running down their faces when I found you torturing them
because they couldn’t say their abc’s?

do you remember any of that, motherfucker?

i do

and one day i’m gonna come for you

it will be the day i receive a terminal diagnosis

this isn’t a threat
it’s a promise i intend to keep
as you used to say

i still have that hunting knife you gave me
and i’m gonna return it to you
from your groin to your gullet

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

rage jar

spring is having its way
with me
and the trees
blooms buds
throw rugs
everything clean

fresh thoughts and ideas

i’m keeping nothing ugly in the house
chipped dishes
anything that reminds me of you

not even angry thoughts

so i’ve placed a rage jar
on the old roll top
ringing my own pavlovian bells

each time you cross my mind
serial killer of happiness
stealing a moment of my peace
i put a five in

at the end of every month
i will donate the contents of
the redemptive vessel
to a battered women’s shelter

my anger transforming into compassion

making something good come
to a woman in need

from the evils that you do

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

frantic swine

his echo follows
no matter how swift my feet
or hiding places divined

the night we died
amidst an ice fog
of our own design

god awful legions screaming inside his gullet

a sound
burrowed into my skull
flesh still seething
forever torn

“But you’re mine! You’re mine! You’re mine!”

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

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

biting the hand that doesn’t feed you

unless you’re part of the scene
you wouldn’t know

most people who claim to write
promote or publish poetry
are mostly lecherous unwashed douchebags
save a few shining angels

it’s a literary pyramid scheme

i swear to an imagined god

who dared to show up so late
to a reading
the audience had to set out their own seats

a doo rag and leather cap doesn’t hide
you took a wrong turn freshman year, fucker

duct tape affixed to the bottom
of your feet

knit an iron maiden
while you ingest chocolate refugee yogurt
through an enema
you sea gull stupid bitch

i suddenly understood why emily
remained silent
under her tree

please write another bloody miscarriage poem

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends


religion was once
the morphine of the masses

but god is dead

so we found a new drug
in social media

a pre-cemetery
of faces in boxes

love, hate, anger, and annihilation
shuffled neatly into 140 characters or less
using language
as ugly as our lives

to keep us busy

the illusion of action
the illusion of freedom

we are happy toddlers with our toys

uncle sam wants you
in a place where you can’t cause any trouble

so diddle your tablet computers
swallow your pills
eat your synthetic meat
grow a little garden in the dust bowl

and please, die quietly

your cooperation is mandatory
and appreciated


Have you heard the good news?

I want to beat you in the face
with one of your glass framed
daily affirmations.

How’s that for emotional impact?

poetry Short Stories Uncategorized

what monsters do

when they see
your back is broken
in their hands

curled into a permanent apology
defeated by bloody rage

neck veins bulge
teeth are bared
the monster’s screams
billow through the ceiling

for you have only angered
the monster more
by reminding it
of its nonsense box

of long since
broken things

“Our anger and annoyance are more detrimental to us than the things themselves which anger and annoy us.”

– Marcus Aurelius