The North Star
Fin-Domme Diary - A Poem
If some clean-room elevator connected floors are
Getting treated like a meat market anyhow,
Then why shouldn’t this old steam engine bellwether
Deserve to be on retainer and on premises?
![Holding My Son as We’re Violently Burned to Death [REPOST]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/579fa3912994ca0eff850271/1580565403490-JCYKP1F40GF6OIQNO5V5/heart-on-fire.jpg)
Holding My Son as We’re Violently Burned to Death [REPOST]
But, son, I was not lying when I said I’d do anything to protect you.
Anything to keep you safe.
Sometimes that meant watching you put yourself in harm’s way.
Life is pointless without risk.
Sometimes it meant watching you get your heart broken
or hearing your bones break from the bleacher seats on the sidelines.
Harm and hurt, you see, are unfortunately, required of us.
The Universe demands it.
They are two of the many ways we learn and become stronger, better people.
Or so I always tried to be better
and I hope that I instilled that desire in you.
Our year
There were splinters in our hearts the size of floorboards.
We waited, shivering.
S&M Santa Claus (Repost from 2019)
The Destroyed Object Is Resurrected - A Prosepoem
I feel better at home, though when I go into the kitchen the staff have turned into simian creatures. Not quite human, not quite monkey. Something gleefully in between, well-dressed as ever.
Las Vegas Tour Company
on the corner
of Casino Center and Colorado with the studded thongs and the leashes around their slim necks and those high- waisted hot-pants hiked up to that sinched waist terrified by the possibility of beauty, while forgetting what
it might
be
...slowly
losing
life
I Was a Teenage Space Billionaire
I built a city in the desert.
Lithium and plastic and dry cellulose.
Autonomous flying cars.
Drone-delivered impossible everything,
Nourishing our body-positive bodies.
Streaming, bingeable Obama-produced documentaries
In every remote classroom.
There was even a monorail.
Ghost Women In Another Vegas - A Poem
This is better than the last testament to her will, which has been reduced to a manuscript hidden in a rare and rusting trunk. Frothing and varnished, it waits.
Dawn In The Parking Lot of Average Dreams - A Poem
Dark Gravel
Flattened Cardboard Burger Boxes
Used Bandaids
Slabs of Tire Rubber
Splintered Toothpicks
Exploded Ketchup Packets
Alternatives to and variations on the slogan “Defund the Police,” because, let’s face it, it could use some improving, or at least some explanation and elaboration
Could We At Least Get Rid Of The Neo-Nazi, Racist, Fascist, White Supremacist Police Officers? Please? Pretty Please? Is That Really So Much To Ask? People In Other Professions Who Exhibit Racist And Violent Behavior Don’t Get To Hold Onto Their Jobs. They Get Fired. Otherwise It’s A Public Relations Nightmare.
Fuck Your Resume
Fuck your resume
Fuck what's gone
before
Nice Things Are Getting Ruined All The Time
Changed my password to ILLFUXYRMTHR69
And walked over to no jukebox but the one behind my
Eyes touched my head full of dye, bleating
Nice things are getting ruined all the time.
Flowers from the Faucet at Midnight - A Poem
I’m nobody and you’re the anybody you’ve always
wanted to be. As long as we’re warm silhouettes in this
picture we have a piece of everything all to ourselves.
Authority is Always Wrong
Unity is Not on My Wish List of Abstract Ideals to Strive for
Unity at what cost?
The indignity of going along to get along?
Freedom is on the top of my wish list.
But different elements come to mind.
Freedom from what? Freedom to do what?
Night Out, 2025
Is it Friday? A day hazing over fast into the good long while of night. Both are so happy to have had themselves. To have been connected.
This was an age after the rooftop days were over. Removed and exposed from the vantage of twenty-or-more stories.
I Love You and I Want You to Suck My Dick
I hate all your ugly, stupid, too fat, too thin, too short, too tall,
too rich, too poor, too humorless, too pathetic, too unintellectual,
too pedestrian, too suburban, too mainstream, too short-sighted,
too ignorant, too conniving, too dishonest, too two-faced,
TOO UGLY girlfriends.
What's Your Poison?
All revolutions squashed or co-opted.
Capitalism's rejects find solace
in the community of 12-Step programs,
addiction as group identity.
Anxiety is the thing that’s ripped our country apart. It has divided us, caused us to fear and hate those who think and live differently than us, and even caused us to hate those who only slightly disagree with us. It has led to panic and overreaction. And I worry that American Anxiety is only going to exacerbate the social and political divide in this country to the point that there is no coming back.