November 13, 2017

Saint Juliet with Starry Eyes


Maybe my poems come out
of the veins of my neck
and one day it will explode.

Sometimes I share too much.
Sometimes I don't share enough,
but doesn't that all depend 

upon what one considers
to be the deep end

or the blood bath?


Yes It's Done

Burning thru canyons of news feed, a vortex on each pallid tongue

until a percolator explodes and then magma seeps out

its mottled gold gorging on the horizon, gnawed ruptures

in the sprawl's dull chill, because we can't tell

the difference between hot and c...

Habits Torn Off 

The nuns change color,

every definition of red. 

They dive out of quiet limbo
towards bloody sainthood. 

Some catch them as specter witches,

as a cosmic diagram 

cinched between

not only the belt

but what is below the belt.

A symbol that serves

as a represen...

March 24, 2017

I growl through another nightmare in the bathtub.
I give birth to more fetal flesh

then use it like shampoo for a witch.

Does this make me evil? 
Am I a bad daughter for not wanting what you want?


I don't want to give birth

to a new life form the way you gave birth to me...

December 21, 2016

My tendency to apologize when I haven't done anything wrong

other than accidentally hurting the feelings of someone

who doesn't understand my feelings.

My tendency to feel like a hissing venomous snake

when the reason I hissed is because my own space was invaded

with mouth...

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