Finger through tar race chariots of fire
One view, two views, three views, four
One like, two likes, then no more

Finger through tar race chariots of fire
One view, two views, three views, four
One like, two likes, then no more
You, the conjuring of muses
Baring a bounty of abuses
Betraying only grace
And I can’t look away
Bow rips
Sheep guts scream
Bow rips
Audience roars
Speculative hypothesis
Speeding ticker tape
Brought to you by Skype
Hairy knuckled apes
Wearing masks
Hiding flasks
No more smiles
Wandering aisles
Pain, pangs, sharp, dull. Internal buzzing, humming, thumping, drumming. Moon lathers, shaving, slivering, chiseling, waning. Time
Each of the men was holding some sort of object made of metal and wood. They pushed a rod into the holes in the metal and tapped it down a few times.
The waitress stopped at the coffee maker and began reloading her pot. She glanced back at his table; the mug still locked in his hand.
Today was a good day for living but not for writing.
The setting and characters shifted. The clacking bones and whirring lenses morphed into the strange noises coming from all the people in the marketplace.
Opening his arms at everyone coming toward him didn’t seem to be effective, if anything, they walked faster and made an obvious turn to avoid him.
Again, he dipped the ink and again he whipped his hand over the canvas until before him was the rough shape of a choppy sea. The dots, he thought reminded him of the spray
Lemuel looked down at his first tattoo, a small black lemon on his right wrist. Made from the ink of octopi and squid pulled up, boiled down and inked by the “daubers”.
She had captured his attention but, in his state, he wasn’t ready to reciprocate.
Surrounding loneliness with all that comes with writing and wrapping it all tightly around like a hug.
She swirled the noodles into a tight knot around the outer tines of the fork. Sauce dripped down her chin and onto her dress
To give one thing for another.
To create in the mind a picture of what could be.
To act with another in harmony.
Of swirling dust, giant tumbleweeds, snorting horses, distant gunshots, crying children and a woman’s embrace.
One hand fumbled for something inside a shirt. A necklace made of wooden beads all cascading down on a fishing line that ended in a lower case “t”.
Now after rain, rapids and collisions with hands and debris, the little boat was becoming heavy.
You’ll find it when you’re not even looking and if your being isn’t ready it’ll slip out of sight just as quickly as you blink.
The DJ booth was right in front of me, blocking the quickest route. I turned left. Something licked my right ear. I looked.
When she felt the pressures of all that is external tightening her body, she would let the curves, slopes and speed of a ride loosen her up.
The light in the hall has two switches, never pointing in the same direction. One is always up. One is always down.
Forever
is the theory
of love
applied science need
not apply
Okay, I’ll have to perform orally. Actually I’m more comfortable with the term verbally if that’s alright with you?
The two made their way to the bar in silence, glancing at each other every so often. He looked down at his drink and around the flashing lights and sounds. She adjusted her cap and looked around at the flashing lights and sounds.
furs blur
cotton tails fly
shells drag
Heads stir
Tear down the bricks
Tear up the flix
Tear down the walls
Tear up the dolls
Tear down the malls
Tear of the curtain to see all the tricks.
Haunting impressions of weight all around
Hairs raise, spine tingles, eyes dart
Feelings unnoticed when presence is visible
Why should his sanity ever be in question when it swam in the same pool of saturated judgements and opinions as those who were insane and those who labeled others insane. It was all the same doggie paddle, just different ends of the pool.
Adventurous fingers
traversing dunes, peaks and valleys
pushing in territorial flags
Addict’s eyes
compromise
Attic’s rise
An empire of
foxtails
dust
rotted fence posts
chipping paint
Love is Molasses
Care is water
The thick and thin
of thieves.
Let us look up, in the holy scripture, the book of 2nd bullshit and find out what lies lick our ears and send us life preservers with no rope attached to dry land.
Salivating teeth taste smoke.
Souls peep morning skies through dewy windows.
“Fire licks Metal until it’s black but it eats paper until it becomes ash.”
The end.
“If I had to guess, you have about 10 to 15 minutes of living left to do. That’s a gift in my book, not many people are given the satisfaction of knowing how much time they have before, well you know.”
The rain drops on the window made all the head lights look like shooting stars passing him. No one was walking the streets. Homeless were huddled at bus shelters, doorways and underneath shop overhangs.
Follicles salute bloody snouts. Extending past split ends, peering at red snow, hearing howling, growling and snarls.
After climbing back to the sand, you lay down, exhausted. The tide begins lapping at your feet, your legs, your thighs, your hands and you remember.
At dusk, the end glows like ancient amber lodged in a fossilized tree. It’s color dimming and brightening with each inhale or gust of wind.
He stood, stage right, peeking out of the curtain, watching them. Some opened the programs, others sipped drinks and in the balcony, a few focused their binoculars. They were nearly ready.
We may tell ourselves they are prudent choices but the heart plants a seed of doubt and only time will tell us if that doubt will grow into regret or die buried deep.
She would have rather lived 3-5 short years with a convict, running from the law, staying in cheap hotels with single digits in their names than to sit in luxuries lap, just waiting for something to move.
I started walking down the street. There were luxury shops I had seen in downtown’s across the U.S. and Europe. There were street vendors selling the things I had seen about this place on television and movies. I got the sense that they had set up shop for all the backpack carrying people who needed sunscreen applied every 2 hours.
Because he had reached out to loved ones, they began reaching out to him. But the darkness was taking over, even if he didn’t realize it. One day he was in its shadow and the next he was swallowed whole.
Like those bottles and cans waiting to be tossed, I too shiver at the thought of needing more. A deep valley, is my body, slowly filling with the trickle of some Joshua tree property hose.