from the porch, the stars at night are big and bright

put them on display like marie o’day

a traveling freak show of our forever frozen-in-fear children’s bodies captured behind glass

we’ll pay our quarter and gasp

will we find the answer?

as they continue to be riddled by bullets from the sphinx’s arms, can they enter our institutions without having to guess who is on all fours and who walks down hallways holding an end to their innocence, not lost, taken, never to be regained?

one last wrinkle from the protector of Thebes tongue, ‘he slithers on his belly after lunch’

these displays are not an anomaly

nothing to stare at stupefied

they’re genetically modified like the rest of us

a mirror in her casket would prove to be interchangeable

next to the werewolf man, just as believable

our fears

in arranged viewing areas for us to examine

school buildings charging admission for us to safely discover what keeps us up at night when our imaginations are made tangible, agreed upon breeding grounds left to their own devices

desires to smash mores established for greed, desires for their moms to fulfill their needs

and dad’s to stand up, before another one bleeds

and joins the circus

from a chair, distance from disaster

you stuck the wooden mallet down my throat and began churning out helpless emotions i stuffed deep years ago to dispel the myth that i am predetermined to your sink-disposal life they threw everything into before you ran away

i’m ok

it made me gag a little

i can taste the past

visions will never last

i bleached my eyeballs

knowing i had to keep moving

my sentences full of your pronouns

i forgot how to say her name

digesting symbols of those who came before the blame

it was them

jesus and the gang

names, like animal emotions

only for us


i gurgled visions of father figure fuck over from a forged outcome past and spat hard on rocks as i kept walking

you’re behind me


the handle hangs out of your bludgeoned head

eyes resting




from bed, dangling before you

knots tie themselves with the rope i swallowed

eating it seemed a better option

a limp lasso left resting in your hands would have given us a chance, we could’ve summons two strangers to swing our string in elliptical patterns while we jump in tandem heart beats

who’ll trip first?

when one goes

so does the other

we’re no different

sell me another story

one without glory

a riveting wrangling of words written to loosen the stitches holding me together

oozing sinewy strands i pick up

three hitches, better than a hangman’s

tether it to something

don’t leave me dangling with this doubt

i love you

from a bed, dried on the vine

shelter our young ones from the onslaught of instincts gone awry

hide them under covers, let them clutch fabric with tight paw grip, peaking out, waiting for us to leave, staying still when we, invariably, come back in

they wait

for us to forget

we’re the ones who tucked them in

when will they know the coast is clear

that presents are under the tree

and it’s safe to come out

feigned surprise guilt faces as they tumble down the staircase that erases the fears we fostered to maintain control

unwrapping hopes

they resort to tropes

left behind

codes to define

generation connections

crossing the line

we left no pictures

traces of our devastation

it lives behind their eyes

never mixing in their words

as they rewrite a past

better forgotten

from a couch, detained by doubtful words

sentiments were left blowing through the streets, strung along by a tongue tied wind, encouraged by the black-out rage of those never looking within, or back, always forward, dead-aim attack


words never meant to linger in nibbled on lovers ears or bask in the glow of a child’s terse tears, said and sung away softly, drifting down pallid people paths where sullen dreams dry up, fall off, and catch the swirling cycle of platitudes puked into the air, so we can say we did something

they caught fire, in grey matter caverns

destroying rehearsed dance step memories

forcing us

to say something new

from the porch, after getting out of bed

curious notions were satisfied when i stripped myself of your diseased perceptions creating questions asked for during midnight mumblings alone in a room made for two

i’m forced into deadline reconciliations with someone i’d walk over on my way to develop new-vision novelties

splitting open rotted wood emotions with hatchet hands

taking another step


counting the splinters stuck in my socks left soaking after the slush i sloshed through in rock-kicked alleys developed a leftover meal for children clawing their way up

determined to continue counting question marks when presented facts

vomiting distractions on desk tops made for drawing, hoping you’ll stop prattling on with dotted dates and crossed out names

i know what you’re thinking

i didn’t want to be here anyway

from a couch, blinking


say something else

we have to

retell the stories, erase the fact that there are facts

only perspectives

unraveled concepts

con-men with biceps

pounding their chests

i hear the echo

trapped in your lungs


scream the song of comfortable doubt

sing, of whys and how’s

not when’s and where’s

let this tune be trumpeted by trusted truth-tellers tempting us to triumphantly overcome this cyclical torture

breaking free

to destroy the enemy

dying free

once again finding we

releasing the me

from this human debris