Choosing Certain Words

   Choosing certain words With connotations to stir The hearts of the audience Cocked crow with pubic fur Sitting uncomfortably – like whaa? Where the hell is he going with this Delusional in this rehabilitating fatigue Longing for the peace that I miss

Don’t Pull Myth Out Of The Truth

Don’t pull myth out of the truth Don’t strip me of a certain beauty Reality is far too painful for reason To ease the hurt, our fortuitous duty

Nell Zink

  “Even his fucking was binary, a sorting process by which certain practices could be tried and found wanting or approved and accorded benchmark status.” – Nell Zink, The Wallcreeper

I Often Catch Myself

    I often catch myself Glancing up at your windowpane Occasionally seeing a silhouette Memories of youth still remain   Possibly spying a lacy chemise But now you’re wearing the curtains Or maybe there was nothing on But I couldn’t know for certain   The morning light not quite seen I might feel like