I am not a worm

I am hopeful. I am painting my toenails in 'Knockout Red'. I am making a brooch. I've got this stuff all over me: cinnamon toast and my perfect body oh I will never be modest again.

Explode

sometimes i explode with tears, fold the towels, drain... little by little drip by drip my confusion dissolves... i'm outside the window, the mirror the blind someone ought to know

Between two lines

where am i between two lines, trying so hard to be good on the one side, on the other stuck to the earth, made of primal instincts, a military demeanor, straight, stuck to the gun after.

Spinning Butterflies

The whisper of your voice Pressed to my ear in darkness Chanting fairy tales and recitals Of many moons passed The warmth of your hands Lull me to silence while

next time I may be bold

and this scab picked thigh chaffed beauty Dances all night Whereof you can only dream - Spoils her trainers, Walks home Alone,

Beach walking

I forgot the imprints of my fall, Sleeping with mud drying on my jeans.

August 1997

August 1997

Incompleteness

“I think today I might have found it.” Four years ago he became convinced that someone would contact him via a manuscript, and this has become the focus of his life.

Crankwood Part 1

Mystery, Horror and a small boy.

Conversations with my cat.

Miaow

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