Month: July 2015

the parade came too late

they kicked a hole

through the sky,

watched it


before beginning that awful


so awful that the

devil himself took

to his bed, babbling about


the shit was ON.

And the phones were out

to catch it,

each dreadful second, blue to black,




and growing.

A shroud
A tumor
something final, feral, fatal.

At long last
the sky touched down

and it grumbled
and the earth grumbled
and the people were silent

with knowing
how small

they’d become.

take a sip of hell

the matchsticks dance

like grizzlies trapped in

a whiskey bottle,

brandished by an old man

watching his own rot proceed.

I’ve got
a letter

earmarked for


burn it,

sweep the ashes into

the envelope;

they’ll tell you all

you need to know

while dancing
like grizzlies trapped

in the flask of a young man

who unloads trucks

and takes his hits hidden

between the pallets.