dialect
Tag
5 Poems
Daay-am, Mumpsy!
You livered outta da splat box
The Calendar Factory
The first hint that theres any water leaking in is the cold around my feet, down by the brake and gas petals
Untitled #26 – #29
madness maelstrom who rat kink.
Facets of the Gemstone in the Pocket of my Raincoat
Everything been going away from me a long time, like a ripple.
3 Poems
Yo’ mama was a porno queen
Befo’ she was a ho,
My little red Gothic boat
Was hankering for something to eat some night.
The King and his Worm
They look at me, the other inmates.
The Cycles of Larson
roadkill, white-tailed deer
Northern Feedback
Knocked-off at half-four and walked south in oblivion for a bit
An Imitation of John Berryman’s Dream Songs
Bleak as Jarndyce nights have to me grown.