The Lion Eating the Sun
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Mandy (A Valentine’s Poem)
Oh, Mandy! Oh, Mandy! Your futz was sweet like candy. You claimed your spot up on the hood, made me eat mouth that tasted good. Oh, Mandy! Oh, Mandy! Your body was so bendy. Inside the car, we reached fourth base grappling in a sweaty embrace. Continue reading
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The Jerk
What do we call somebody who can’t smell the flowers nor the pollution any whiff of realization maybe, yes, he has imagination just the deluded and clouded kind because he thinks he’s all that when in reality he isn’t all that and the world can see he’s not all that yet he keeps believing he’s… Continue reading
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The Purple Lady
Have you heard of the legend of the Purple Lady? I know the story but her name escapes me She was sent to an island with a group of heroes, Villains, builders, and the ghosts of zeroes Continue reading
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Too Soon
I want to curse Time for taking you too soon, denying you Christmas and next year’s June. I want to hate the weather for raining today because the last thing I need is a world that’s gray. I want to shut the people, their voices annoy. Instead I wish to hear the voice of a… Continue reading
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Moral Crusaders
If you see a moral crusader you should run, run, run. hanging out with one is no fun, fun, fun they complain ’bout anything under the sun, sun, sun might as well kill yourself with a gun, gun, gun Continue reading
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The Party
Enjoy and love the party, I tell myself in mind. This company’s temporary, I’ll leave it all behind. Might not be tomorrow, it will be very soon. Continue reading
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Novel #2 Title and Protocover Reveal
My good folks, I am happy to reveal the title and protocover of my second novel coming to you next year. I present to you… Continue reading
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The Forgotten
Not even a figment of your imagination Not even a consonant in your whisper Not even a blink from your observation Not even a stroke in your signature Continue reading
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Maybe
Agitated clouds, flighty waves The ocean’s about to turn crazy Will the boat flip? Am I brave? Can I jump in the sea, maybe? Continue reading
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Asleep Underground
Who am I in the mind of a critic? Nothing but a tryhard and a decrepit. What do I look like in the eyes of a doubter? A small and rotten, wilting flower. Continue reading
Xeno Hemlock 