art corsets crime dance death desserts destruction love poetry relationships rituals Uncategorized writing

fainting goat

every day

with him

was the last day

affectation art behavior chronology civility comfort poetry Uncategorized

embracing needles

age has
inoculated me
to human charm
genuine and feigned
thank goodness

analysis art Hell history poetry Uncategorized

no substitutions, please…

shame comes staggering


through the bedroom door

when i consider the horrors

i once chose

to call love



you rationalize
all you want
age 40
is the doorway
to the latter half
of your life
thoughts and prayers
and other useless platitudes
to those struggling to catch up
if you haven’t found your way by now
you never will
i have loved
owned a ridiculously big house
lived in the best school district
driven luxury cars
worn designer clothes
mounted men with huge cocks
and still i was left
i was surviving
not living
because the only pure bliss
is freedom of choice
the ability
to not give
a single fuck

art love poetry Uncategorized

a thousand times this

so much was lost

to lessons i had not yet learned


it is impossible for me to regret

wedding dresses unraveled

children i never had

thousands of miles traveled

had i given my whole heart

to those who came before

i would have nothing left

for you

beautiful man who has

redefined kissing as

your lips touching mine

redefined loving as

my hand holding yours

until the end of time








childhood desserts education family human behavior life literature love poetry relationships romance Uncategorized writing

trick candle

when life has taught you

all love ends

in pain

it becomes easy

to extinguish every flame

but not him

he’s my trick candle

he burns brighter

the more i try to blow

i have learned

to stop blustering

enjoy the party

and eat

the damned cake

art literature poetry sociology Uncategorized writing

a traveler’s guide to avoiding a hell of your own making

it’s taken me
nearly forty years
to learn to say
to fear
to vice
to vanity
to unhealthy people
to intolerable situations
so to hell with
fake it ’til you make it
i say
fuck it ’til you chuck it

addiction Americana analysis art behavior biology books civility ecology education family happiness history human behavior literature local color nature non-fiction parenthood physics poetry psychology publishing punk relationship studies religion rituals science society sociology Southern Gothic thanatology the arts war writing

to spit or to swallow

the patience and wisdom

coming with age

are fast becoming

my favorite shoes to wear


as my own horseshit

and the shenanigans of others

become less excusable

with each passing day

every birthday candle wished upon and blown


there comes a point

when you’ve been told

you know better


repeated behaviors are either psychosis

or selfish forms of masturbation

such as the poets who write

their daily vengeance poem

scribbled in shit and crayon

on unsuspecting

psych ward facebook walls



grant me the serenity

to zip my lips when called for


to know when to spit

and when to swallow


but mostly

when to say

fuck off


Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing


when i was working in a mortuary
the most emotional moment
for me wasn’t during the funeral service

the toil in the prep room
as a body was embalmed

or when meeting with the family

it was the drive to the cemetery
when no one else was looking

behind the wheel of a hearse
in the purple flagged funeral procession
behind a police escort
mourner filled limousine right behind
a casket adorned with flowers
just past the velvet curtain
in my rear view mirror

keenly aware

nothing is trivial

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