Tag Archives: Slaughter’s Mad Dash
King of Birds (ii)
My brother was four-years older, already on the edge of escape: anger and a bullet proof vest his only companions. When he was younger, he thought he was Geronimo and wore a tattered headdress (bought from some roadside souvenir stand) … Continue reading
King of Birds (intro)
My mother only took photographs of sadness. The Crown box camera clicked and fluttered; the wide-eyed shutter collapsed like a hesitant flower with withering petals. The camera looked like a hearse and the images were minor funerals; the death of … Continue reading
What Do Your Flowers Say Now?
I was on the edge of the mapped earth, where I rode the waves of anguish and lash, bandied about the suffering crush of the water’s cruel intent to drown. The gulls mad dash, lurch and startle, made the suffering … Continue reading
Ruins (e-minor)
She sleeps with her weary ghosts too tired to make them believe that there is a better place for haunting, a place beyond the immeasurable sleepy self where dark dreams conspire to pull them all beneath the surface where life … Continue reading
#9
I’ve been dead for years, splayed on the flywheel of uncertain tides/ Banished by the gods to iridescent indifference, a fuse of failure/ Please sign here, in blood for the bones of yours alone/ The bruises become wings on which … Continue reading
Blindness
I’ve finally figured out that I’m blind. Since birth I have seen only darkness that I mistook for shadows. My mother mocked me for my optimism and now I know why. Love awakened the truth of my blindness and seared … Continue reading
Call it Something Unexpected No. 2
Walking at the sea’s edge and I find silence within the crashing waves. We Walking at the sea’s edge and I find silence within the crashing waves. We all drown in our own silence. We float unadorned and untethered to … Continue reading
Cold Failed Stars
Did she really exist or are the photographs reflections of my imagination? My eye for detail is amazing. I can see things that never happened. Like that barrage of comets that fell from her eyes like cold failed stars, littering … Continue reading
A Brief History of My People
We were born in the City of Darlings and came to believe that in the world of spoon bending, it is the thought that counts. These hand crafted illusions have been passed down from generation to generation and we are … Continue reading
Trapeze
She was first and foremost a trapeze artist a high wire woman made of stone who blindfolded everyone around her. You don’t have to fall in love with everyone you see she said, as she lit a cigarette and smirked … Continue reading
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