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king of dragonflies
Photo by Med Badr Chemmaoui on Unsplash

she wasn’t as alive
as she thought
she was
but none of us were
at that age
i guess
i could say
she had more life
in her
than most

freshman year was hell
it was a good hell
but it was hell
all the same

no one had any
direction
back then
so we did what we
finally could do
guzzle booze
and have sex with strangers

young
wild
and unchained

we met at
an open mic
i was there supporting
a buddy
who plucked a guitar
and could drink
hemmingway
under the table

she was there to read…


Photo by Conscious Design on Unsplash

i missed them
the words
their arrangements
the smoldering flow
of lava
gushing from my soul
down my fingertips
through the keys
melting onto the page

I had them,
once

they left me
a while back
on holiday,
perhaps
south for the winter
along with the
summer seagulls

i grieved for them
a waste of time
the words
don’t care about me
or you
or us

or themselves
i suppose
enlightened beings
that they are

they simply glide
through the clouds
soaring
steaming
smoking
surveying the land
peering through the mist

until they see one one they can use one…


Photo by Eric Ward on Unsplash

her iris was hazel
like mine
and she enjoyed dancing
for everyone
on the kitchen floor
in between her drinks

and the people would come
after their shifts
because
my refrigerator was always
stocked and the entertainment
always lasted
until the moon
drifted across the sky

the dealers
the gamblers
the players
the moonrakers
the shy
the beautiful
the ugly
the germs
and the pure
came in droves
it was a good mixture

at the beginning of each morning hazel eyes and i would saunter down the hall into my bed to give what life we had left in us…


Photo by Quinten de Graaf on Unsplash

death talks with me
walks with me
constantly

i am reminded
of course
by the scars on my throat
on my ribs
my skull

by the
constant tick
of my forced
power blinks
that resinates
beyond my control
every few hours
causing my eyes to stutter

by the
slight tremors
in my left wrist
when i’m exhausted
or
angry

by the minor
life plot
details
that seem
just out of reach
of my memory
due to the scar tissue
inside my head

death sits with me sees with me talks with me walks with me lays with me plays with…


Photo by Shaik Shaad on Unsplash

so there i am
sitting
at the house
waiting for some action
as was in between
jobs
at the moment
when my fiance
sends me a picture
of a chicken
behind the school’s
chicken coup
fence

so i threw on
a flannel
and drove on
over

i had never
run down
a chicken before
and the opportunity
was thrilling
so blasting
heavy metal
through the speakers
of the impala
seemed appropriate
for the occasion

upon arrival
i received
the location of the chicken
instructions on how to open the back gate
and a kiss
for luck

the poor girl was…


Photo by xiaokang Zhang on Unsplash

we both knew
the summer was what we had
and so
we made the most
of the ocean’s breeze
in the sand
during the day
and the lifeguard’s stand
at night

we were temporary

but only because i knew
and you knew
that i would be leaving
when the season changed

and even if you waited
for me
you knew
i couldn’t wait
for you

it wasn’t my nurture
but
it was
my nature

your body was free
but
your heart
remained at home
knowing i had lost
mine
somewhere
quite some time ago

remember me as you dance and…

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