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L’homme est un loup pour l’homme -Unknown, graffiti in Paris Why do they come at me with these claws? hooked nails better served..

All drained no stems no bones awash now in the puddle of the morning coffee on but mostly forgotten nothing but static mind, chattering; t..

I feel at a loss for myself, her works are so compact there isn’t a word wasted, each line can be judged by the weight of the line before ..

"the weight we carry / is love" - Song, Allen GinsbergI must fall down awhile under the weight of love become a puddle of self a bubbling mas..

I long to live inside the humI want to wing across the static atrophyI yearn to spread my armsso so wideand droplike a stone

I am not more lonely than god I have the sky and the sun I have the breath of the wind I have the heave in my chest The burn my head ..

I never planned for this to happen never planned to cover my tongue in salt and lick open wounds Oh the day it burns in my head Oh sou..

His growing instability… his loss of worth he finds no joy in living we watched while the world consumed him Here, we live in the ..

I’m making too much of you; I’m constructing of you a temple where I can lay in supplication on the rushes of your prese..

The forty ton load lifter settled down on it’s bag with a terminal whine of the engine. With a hiss, the driver-side door swung up and Tommy Eig..