“Let’s see” she said “woman’s vanity” and I shook my head.
“No” I say and with it play “insanity is only a way”
“Vanity” she repeats with some sadness and I go over the edge of madness
“Woman is a mirror of the fear of the death we get nearer
Woman is a task of putting on a mask and not care -”

But before
We die
We must misunderstand one another

A Bard I Guess

I was a tard I guess
A bard I guess
A tard I guess
I was a singer/songwriter poet philospher I guess
But I don’t want to be pretentious
Not here
Maybe in a psych ward where pretentiousness is smiled upon

Your frown says it all
From your captive stance above me


There in my chest hair
Was a severed finger
A large octopus hanging from the ceiling
And broke my face open to

There in my toes
Under the soul where the religion froths out of the body
Like a rabies
Until nothing

Still as a stepped on worm
Smushed beyond all recognition


I was alone the gun swallowed me
Holding my breath
To my own heart beat
A bullet lodged somewhere between my throat like a frog
And my thumb and index
Twirling before death
Like some grim ballerina
Twirling before death

It’s Inside Your Guts

It’s inside your guts
It’s nuts
It’s up your veins and arteries
It’s wisdom
Cycling up and down your nervous system
Circling up living
Delusion in unison with confusion in union with

It’s inside your stomach
Up so high you plummet
Down so low you vomit
So middle
You fidget and fiddle fingers across your eyes

It’s inside your abdomen
Habit and ruin
It’s inside your head wed to the grid of

A matrix of lies awakening up to cry to a question
To die for a lesson

It’s inside your guts
It’s nuts
It’s though your mind and soul
Up and down in a grave hole
To hit the bell of lovingness
And go straight into a hell
Of nothingness

Worry Box

She had a worry box
It had a ribbon and a lock
She had a facebook
And three hundred men blocked
She had a worry box
And in that box was talk and talk…..
She had a worry box
Gossip that would not fly
Hatred that would not die
Parents that would not pry

She had a worry box
And every day she undid the ribbon and lock
Stopped living in knots
Life was worth examining this one more time
Through the hole of worry shot through her mind

She had a worry box
Locked on her dresser
A zipped mouth
For her confessor
Who sat

That she
Had a worry box and locked