regime change

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The window of the inn looks out on the narrow street. It’s opaque with smudged filth.

Man, this republic is fucked

I am rich with the stuff,
Won from an enemy’s savage gardens.

When I was thirteen years old I got punched in the face.

Taste the stomach lining. Taste the intestines. Push your yellow teeth chewing through them.

two cardinals. wrapped in red & roped in ring. with sticks for the beating.

I wonder if the orchestrator
Of these repetitive tragedies
Is thinking to conduct a war –

When Barry first saw Calvin Klein lying on the wide shiplap planks of the abandoned hovel’s floor, he thought he was sleeping

The young king’s corpse is badly decayed.

They were in bed together.