My heart is not as black as crude oil ( Read more... )

April 30/30 ( Read more... )

When you look at me, it’s a swooping dare of instinct that communicates deadly intent along the wire from predator to prey. The quivering acquiescence of a humble foodstuff in the face of pure physical superiority. I would feel the same if I looked into the jaws of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. I would not run. I would merely be food. There would be no ( Read more... )

Hey bookshelf! How’s the bullet wound in your green shirt doing? Is the red ink flowing? Are you in debt? Do you fear the reaper? Does your wooden exoskeleton feel exposed to traitor arrows? Do bullets made from the same stuff at printing presses scare you? You are a hardcopy going softcover. Your spine is thinning. Heavy books covering ( Read more... )

If I must die, then bury me at middle C. I’ll pull trains down from the sky and for God I’ll play my best card: my child ( Read more... )

Some people’s entire lives are suicide notes and their deaths make us suddenly literate, make us take off our Coke-bottle glasses and look at it with 20/20 hindsight ( Read more... )

On the right scale, every life is as short as a baseball swing ( Read more... )

Here he comes, oiling up out of the shadows. Window-pane grids of dying sunlight throw darkness in the corners, giving him fuel until the strength of night allows him to fully awaken ( Read more... )

My days are numbered but they’re all out of order. I’m shuffled ( Read more... )

She grew up in an abandoned orphanage filled with broken mirrors and black cats. All she knew was defense. She reminded me that even blind people are scared of the dark. She was a black wave rising up from the depths of the ocean in the form of a woman. She swelled to maturity in a way that made men want her ( Read more... )