2009 July:

2009 April:

2009 March:

2009 February:

2009 January:

2008 December:

i’ve stood the teeter-totter heights

the abscesses bloom poppy skirts,
the bloody motor is beat

(beat and brittle)

my leg is a chipped peg,
a lain log with a creaking tap to silence innocence

immune to banana gas, my dullness is electrifying

an empty bowl full of pits,
the whores have eaten the cherries
(BLOOD SUCKERS) are (KNIFELIKE)

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A NUMB SLICE O’ MEAT
the opacities weight has mopped to a sigh:
A HUMILATED BEAT