So you want a love poem

so you want a love poem
jerk off in front of a mirror
and write about it
you want a love poem
find a poet
and blow’em
maybe he’ll write about it
you want this poem to be famous
to grace us
with exhausted words
and blame us for not knowing
what it means
well here you go
cram that in your fuck rift


Blood and ink – a sigil of words

Blood and Ink: A Sigil of Words

mind cursed
into an extended moment
of self induced venom
becoming something
that it was not
all that was gained
became lost
in a city
of stereotyped burnout
hiding in the smog
deceiving itself
that it was buoyant
but suffocating
in its own treachery

mind mazed
the WILL is
the minotaur
breaking the walls
labeled chicanery
rising to the sun
like Icarus
becoming a god as Helios
shining bright
cutting through the smoke
paving a thoroughfare
the sigil is clear
so it is done


Because that shit happens

there is blood from a pigeon
decimated on 3rd and 9th
where i had a stand off with a taxi
where i tried getting a job
where i saw a collision
where i took a left once
maybe twice
where i greeted a fellow cyclist
where i found a quarter
where i came up with this poem
that is still frozen in the ice