Visions and visitors

Drip young,
we wept in the morning
when the haunted stranger
with the ripped knapsack
left out of the basement window,
forgetting his red bandana and
taking the whiskey out of the liquor cabinet.

Ghost stories for kids,
the Druids in their black dresses
let loose in the graveyard,
pant under the night sky
and then left in the ditch
to die at sixteen.

Ginsberg left me hungry,
climb the mount
and surrender to visions of
blood spills and iconography.
Kill the creep,
martyr the saint,
and suck the angels dry,
just another day
in the hump backed whale,
breathing and sweating crazy.

Enter the Big Top,
split me right down the middle,
female and male,
freak that I am,
missing you and the monster,
and the shadows in my mirror agree.

My dreams are waking up
and demanding
to talk to management.
Let me in,
to smoothe you over
and forget the darkness
between us,
at least till the sunrise.

Low dreaming

Risk gravitas,
we welcome in the new python,
radiation snake
slithers over our heads,
twisting in the sunset.

The trees outside my window
are moving and talking,
their bodies melding together.

Music theory
and silence kept me awake,
though I tremble
in the darkness, always alone
at 3 in the fucking morning,
waiting for a sigh
or a sign, I guess.

It would seem
my mind will play chess
with the devil,
and not give a damn.
I awake in a strange bed
and then realize
I'm still dreaming.

Wild Work

Puzzle me
to the beating of your bones.
Lend me a soft hand
to spill my tears upon,
into the river they drift
and mix in with sand
at the bottom of the ocean.

Set me unchained into the wild,
feeling the rain on my
naked back.
I revolt,
while you reflect on coffee filters
and no.3 pencils
that you had in 3rd grade
when you caught that girl's eye.

Suffer me,
the blues swallow me,
and sigh.
I will feel the pain,
put on the Cheshire grin,
leap out of the window
and into the Moon's light.

The hanged man and the fool

I miss the winter,
that chilling of the spine
reminds me I'm alive.
Nothing quite like
teeth-chattering reality,
I suppose.

You make me move
slither in and out,
unfold with me,
take me to that creeping show,
that you know nothing
at all about me,
deep down,
in the bone.

I saw the Hanged Man
in my dreams,
lay me down,
thus to rise again.
The red dragon ever purging
within me.
The Fool is laughing
because he doesn't give a fuck.


The pain struck a chord,
a tension she felt in her back
and neck, crushing her chest.
Though she wouldn't admit it,
her characters are falling
through the hole in the wall
where the wind comes in.

And there's always a part of you
that wants to spit fists
and bleed,
and fuck,
and not indeed in that order.
So it seems to me,
I can't stare down the monster,
unless I become her.
The deepest low
I've ever known
comes crawling in the back door
hungry and impatient.
So I stand in the mirror,
waiting to witness this unknown creature,
to speak to this bastard beast,
in the dark,
and in the morning I cry slightly,
but my face still splits into a grin
as I meet the creep
for the first time:
he stands behind me laughing.


Tortured villages,
watch them burn.
The body bags line the streets
in my dreams,
turning into nightmares.
Keep it secret,
most of the time.

The drums keep beating.
We grind to the rythmn
out of instinct
and animal desire to survive.
In the winter,
we dine with the angels,
drinking gin out of the bottle,
free of puppet strings,
we recount the endless streams
of conscious collective visions.

We walk circles,
priesthood and circus training,
we are here to entertain
and provoke you to move.

Dark clouds forever plague me.
The darkness thickens,
the sickness takes without delay,
forget it all,
and it just haunts us more.
Skin grows cold and the hunting begins.
I'm drowning in heavy,
sinking low in the harmony,
dancing and coughing up blood.
What is happening to me?

A tornado almost ripped my heart
out of my body.
I miss my dad enough...
can't finish.
What else was there to say?
I suppose that my jaw clenches,
I feel the tears fall indeed
down my cheeks again.
Opened the floods in me, it did.

I will make sure that the puzzle piece
of me you hold in your hand
will disappear as soon as you
pick up another dirty sliver off the pavement.

Forever melting,
I take the fire
back into my mouth,
breathing heavy,
tantric eyes.
Lift me up,
forgive me and move.