smell of mesquite and creosote clings to my skin, hums the secrets of my heart and i close my eyes. paints my lungs with dark tar these immolate sirens, whispering flames to the night like voices in hell. my words go soft as cotton and these thoughts dim to a slow vibration, worry wrapped in…

i watch the world condense to a singular point of origin and it is without purity, without clarity, a non inspired critical mass that i am left out of. with every domain, every kilobyte and internet protocol the string between everything goes slack and distance is dissolved, there is no place to disappear but for…

it tastes of dust and is sedimentary, tiny flecks of questionable matter rotating slowly in the small current of the glass container, the walls stained with thin soap residue recalling a more primitive version of self, water in thin supply but the cigarettes grow like vines and smoke rings revolve around the ceiling fan like…

is this a casualty or product of windswept war, mixing the good thoughts with the bad and drinking them even and impartial at six a.m. on a thursday morning, scrawling algorithms on the bare walls of the mind, carbonizing strange nodes of fear with thoughts like flame and words like iron, a slow burn of…

blur corridor, i got a sense of direction that’s wrong, all wrong this life’s moral compass spinning like a mad clock in the grips of a speed fit, dead friends back to life shake their heads disapprovingly and the past is present again in wine bottles and cardboard containers, ashtrays in variable forms and the…

my thoughts are a red rubber band, an endless current of elasticity that stretches on and on through time and the threat of snapping is prevalent, the fear of breaking is always there and the sound of it beckons me back from the outer reaches of my strange revolutions. my thoughts are a light fixture…

all that i can hear is the clicking of a mouse, a rodent on speed and the clacking of keys as you hammer out your thoughts on the keyboard like morse code whose meaning is kept hidden from me. click clack. click clack. all that i can hear, click clack, click clack, and the vibration…

would it be more reasonable to remove an ear, to dress in yellow, to chase my thoughts round and round like a burning wheel, to sift through the penstrokes of my indelible ministry, the hypergraphia in my nerves, wormholes in my limbic system. are you there, manifesting nights from your eyes and drinking daylight from…

the line separating this from that is charged with lonesome axioms and electromagnetic impulses spur your legs to walk away, walk far into the night darling girl and wear it about your shoulders and weave it through your hair and tie it to your wrist and hang it from your hips. twirl a cigarette between…

i am volatile like an open flame near gasoline, i am the threat of spontaneous combustion, arson sparked wildfires tearing worlds apart and shuddering embers at the mention of vapor. i am an explosion of the heart carrying blood and nerve through terminating footprints, disintegrating form and memory like napalm over treelines, i spit flame…