In Memoriam of Esther Fleeger, Butler PA.

it seems like we are in a season of dying women
i put the drink to my lips
a sip on the concrete for those that went before
and those who will join them
i lift my cries up to thee

early morning fog sits quietly over my nightmares ( Read more... )

i feel the ice slowly forming over each doorframe ( Read more... )

damn this song is so fly ( Read more... )

i've been walking all morning and i found myself at st.james
the message was familiar, but diiferent than i used to know it
they lifted up their voices to god
as each note echoed through the building
older than me

my sleep has been plagued lately by two squirrels. they scratch around all day and night as they slowly eat a whole through the ceiling above my bed. someday they'll make it through and probably land right on my fucking face. goodnight.