twisted pipe cleaners
child did bend for me before
i closed her case file
for a kid named Crystal
eating my words [ii]
brink
it’s no good
i’m dubious should i or not
i took a walk around and around
inventoried the lost opportunities
of finding myself
Billie Holiday laments
and so do i
good morning heart ache she asks
i follow in a raspy girl whisper
what’s new
had i been a raconteur
would i had made a difference
in the mind that crazy hapless ass
i trudge a long time
exhausted
questioning
and as if by sheer exhaustion
the conclusion that i have no control
is reached
two bloods in a pod
all my Sabbath mornings
no longer needed my fearful doubts
looking at the potted cactus fortitude
firmly planted in a soil that
only hope has a cherished soul
odd behavior
to practise a kind of common sense now would it make a difference medication domination exaggeration death of what we used to be for good bad or indifferent what is it in the seed of them that twists them this way would i know if God instructed it have you ever screamed trapped on your own dream while the glass walls shattered in your castle beware it could be real this panic that i feel while getting pushed into the forest
broken heart
my mechanical
pencil lost somewhere in a
box of dead letters
eating my words [i]
masonicos 1932
sanity
old monkey
sunshine of my heart
companion of my dull soul
make my spirit rise to the rouge skies
green vested like a tree you are so dear to me pink cheeked noisy silly boy only voice of reason in my head when everything in my news screen turns red
words less spoken 