Month: June 2015

a simple name, really

there’s a vendetta hand
deep inside
there’s a vendetta hand
that curls
that curls
that curls

into a righteous vendetta fist
that prays great vendetta prayers

and on its great vendetta mind

there’s you
branded and burnt-in
like the ashen shadows
on the steps of the
blast zone.

there’s a vendetta hand
deep within
and you should know it
like your own brandished heart,
absent at all the right or wrong or perfect
of times,
you should know its contours
of your design
and the randomness
you yourself weaponized.

there’s a vendetta hand
clenched in there
and its memory
is longer and
more vivid than mine,
in its mind’s eye
treachery, encased and enshrined
and shinier indeed
than an absinthe dream
or a drunk night’s bottle
or a picture of you
with a bulls-eye
painted on it.

detritus boogie

you visit

the places where

they burned you down

without the comfort of

ashes or remnant shadow.

you visit because

there’s something in you

that nails you to the spot,

some hidden and invisible stranger

with time and

vendetta eyes.

you visit the places where

they burned you down,

a bus runs snakelike through it,

runs snakelike and perfect

the way you designed it.

Look, it’s time to

sheppard progress or

get to drinkin’ the rough stuff


who knows?

Maybe they’re the same.