on both sides of the argument there is little to be said; they buy their false gods in pill and powder form from men with calloused hands and bury themselves each night in that waste of confusion. those with heart bear witness to the fall of language and the birth of broken vestige, still struggling…

in the night i came upon a creature whose form seemed to circumvent darkness itself. there was light yet from the moon but no other where i stood, still enough to see that around me yet this creature i could not define in whole of structure, only his eyes which though seemingly darker still than…

back in the days when the days were blurred and the nights a cyclone of spirit and smoke, when everything you touched turned to wine, you lived and died by a solitary whisper in an ethereal haze of purgatory called summer. waiting on the telephone, all-consuming was the nature of your demons delivered forth from…