I welcomest thou
and praisest thou
for giving unto me
an excuse,
nay an explanation,
nay a justification
for my in progress
male-pattern balding,
unexcused by my previous 26 years.
Day: November 27, 2008
orgasmic states
poetryHurtling along these highway streets,
traveling through the night
as the music pounds its way
into my head, heart, soul
driving!
Pushing!!
POUNDING!!!
faster!
Further!!
HARder!!!
HARDER!!!!
into the night,
into the darkness,
into the music,
wherever it may lead
bloody nose
poetrythis was a stinging
critique on love,
and the insanity of it
or the insanity of me
and my bipolar disorder
and my anxiety
and my hatred
and how i’ve probably not trusted a soul my entire life and have subsequent problems doing so in the present or any forsee-able future,
but it ended up
dead as the leaves
replaced with something
now as i re-read it,
decidedly more dead
and probably
better.
the sieve and the sand 