Placebo

You have mistaken me For a dispensary Doling desire with sterile measure And also— The palliative prescription, therein A feminine formulation Of encapsulated adoration A synthetic genesis Of long legs and gaping lips Quiet, obedient, until needed For relief The remedy for ennui The poetic antidote For remote loneliness You would have me be Provisioned […]

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Why’d you go?

Silencio…. No hay banda…. No hay orquesta…. Tell me what you would doIf things had got so complicatedThat the lies become trueAnd the things that made usNow just tear us apartThe feeling you once hadNow rips out your heartIt’s all recordedOur fate is predeterminedThere’s no orchestra….The world keeps turningEvery day I’m learning That my lifeIs […]

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Within | The Art of Letting Go

A few simple, universal truths: Love and let love. Live and let live. But if it becomes. Live and let die? For love? You leave and let go. With love. Because living. Should never feel hopeless. And loving. Should never feel helpless. Because living. And loving. Should never involve. Watching someone drown. Love is both. A […]

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these days

I sift for flecks of amethyst at the crux of an immense hourglass it’s structural integrity tested at the edifice by slow ebbing tremors of antecedent identity my reflexiveness proves resolute as the west continues beckoning seeming to undress me indefinitely it peels away at the décolleté shedding like ribs of bib lettuce the lattice […]

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Of Monsters and Men

You will learn to love me, begrudgingly In fact you already do In absence and errant thought The forget-me-not first thought in the morning I am the pins and needles from the too-tight boots That you laced improperly just to spite me On remembering how I once said That aesthetic is very important And you […]

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Anything but—

Carnations never garnish the caskets of kings But the flaccid sprigs serve well As the empty promises of thieves The half-hearted perianths The pastel stalemates posing as foliage Plucked by idle hands in the dead lands Of can’t manage sincerity The leafy little demons The roughage of recidivists In their much ado-about-nothingness Clutched by teary-eyed […]

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April Showers…

Bring May flowers…. .. What flowers? Fuck flowers.

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Jack Of All Trades

there is such a nonsense to us a tepid little timepiece tucked away on a tarnished chain it chandelier hangs from a breast pocket precipice reminding of vanity’s futility  of flattery and rabbit dander because technically nothing’s nonexistent and everything’s contingent on byproducts of subconscious infatuation is both inherent and absent when one desires without strings waltzes […]

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To The Grave

In a overgrown field of narcoleptic poppies Sits a padlocked grave that couldn’t be picked By the most astute of smiths Cage of wrought iron Crowned in gargoyle lions Its derelict mechanisms Spiraled by ghostly butterflies Taxidermists try in vain To feign their grace These are mere Frankenstein’s of science  Garish replications of spectral flirtations What […]

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The words and I

“Her heartbeat is a metaphor, a late Bloom of red flowers that refuse to fade. My darling turns to poetry at night.” – Anthony Lawrence The words and I Starry eye’d lovers aligned In the endless craving of catharsis We coalesced in the suddenness  Of our belonging, justified The words and I Swarmed by velvet […]

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Failure of Appraisal

“But mathematics is the sister, as well as the servant, of the arts and is touched by the same madness and genius.” — Marston Morse Numbers had always been the enemy My least favorite absolutes They’re non-amicable exponentials Adversarial fractions Codependent coefficients Periphery, skulking bitterly In the grand accounting of things I told myself what […]

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Quiet Time

Quiet is woman’s most misleading reprieve A method of marinating our collective madness A conservatory of fury and frenetic energy Which is why our silence Is so highly weaponized A righteous design Honed patiently for centuries By nature’s most dangerous darlings The Royal ‘She’ History’s ample antagonists So sublime is that quiet That fools are born and […]

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With the agony of Keats

I want to be acquainted esoterically With the wilting agony of Keats I want a feverish apex in Italy To end with metaphysical conceit I want to aspirate on avarice I want the Reaper’s lust To be ravenous I want to succumb To a sickness of lung I want to be a poet of unspeakable rarity […]

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Death to Lust

Elegy to fantasies, proven false— Awoken in the clemency of dawn A jagged horizon doused with vagrant elegance The sun pours itself without a hint of contempt For the repetition of cosmic chore Fragmenting through umber drapes A muddied hypnosis, box fan billowing Coquettish, butterfly kissing The splinters of a sagging windowsill Oriel crop dusted […]

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everything’s roses

The Rose Tree by William Butler Yeats — ‘O words are lightly spoken,’  Said Pearse to Connolly,  ‘Maybe a breath of politic words  Has withered our Rose Tree;  Or maybe but a wind that blows  Across the bitter sea.’  ‘It needs to be but watered,’  James Connolly replied,  ‘To make the green come out again  […]

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Until you’re satisfied

I will wait for you in a bayou Where I am requisite and unrestrained Auxiliary to predation A consonant with the feral ecology Bemused with the libertine prose  Of sweltering tides Of sheltering fugitives In utter defiance of purity A confessor to the preference For total annihilation Consoled by the throated sadism Of wayward osprey Captivated by […]

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impossible

It’s true I’m hopeless Hopelessly infatuated With impossibilities The reason being, simply Everything else there is Or ever was Or ever will be Fucking      b o r e s       me It’s true I’m impossible Impossibly hopeful For opposition The reason being, simply Everyone else there is Or ever was Or ever will be […]

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of rambling roses

born in the fever dreams of Degas dainty brushstroke delineations conceived surreptitiously on a canvas of ephemeral linen heavy with striated tenderness in the pallor of blushing brides petite parfum ballerinas their arabesque stems gathered in enormous, trussed bouquets  bespoke of cherubs the ceremonials of flowers an unspoken dowry of buds clutched for the sake of […]

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when not for lack of

I dare not love you Nor should thee, ever Dare in loving me Fruit can not be thieved When unable to bloom For this Let us unanimously agree There loom no tangerines On the gnarled branch Of the sycamore tree Nor can lemons sprout Among the devout leaves Of laurels For this let there Ne’er […]

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flirtation in the third person

  She drinks to herself Until dazed with liquid mischief A hedonist that fiends for the libertine A voyeur of her own volition She stares into the abyss and the abyss Blows back suggestive kisses As if— It already knows She belongs to lands of agony To vermillion bridges With ledges that dare lover’s to […]

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