here's to new beginnings.

boys in blue: the investigation ensues ( Read more... )

mr. magician: unveil the canopy ( Read more... )

dear lilian, the absolute heroic triumph of theatre over television, prompting the waving of new flags and stamping of fresh headlines, my first and last blindfolded gallop into the traffic of our southern highway and the sound of a cigarette being sucked through deep red lips ( Read more... )

9-19-81. the proud priest pluc ( Read more... )

the sun is bouncing off the mirrors of a car, slipping through the blinds like some burglar behind bars. i'd fight it if i could. there's a girl with me, a pleasant mystery, and i wonder if i should let her know it's morning. or maybe write her like a story. my clothes are off, the t.v. is on. it's blaring some insanity about a drunken man who ( Read more... )

there's too much love for me to steal, so it slips right through my hands like jealous wind through branches or the ocean through the sand. and all these cries i've sent you (wrapped in prayers) were lies at best. you breathed them in like air and still i'm blind to how i'm blessed. at night, do you see me twisting in my neon shame cocoon? and ( Read more... )

act one ( Read more... )

don't swerve. i'll stand here till my mouth is a crack in your windshield. i'll carve out a map of my secrets concealed. i am an open book, judged by my trash covered content. a novel idea about my best of times spent. so stop the hot presses and tape this headline on your story. "forgotten word-weaver raped of his glory." they were the hot ( Read more... )

"hi, my name is lovely. and i'm an orphan addict". hi, lovely. "i've been clean for sixteen minutes." our applause is automatic. look at the faces in this circle. have you seen stranger strangers? have you sat with happier hookers shaving tattoos off their neighbors? when we walk without writ, we waltz wrinkles into grooves like a polished ( Read more... )