she messaged me for awhile but i guess she lost interest in me a sharp pain explodes in my chest however briefly replaced soon with numbness i don’t know if it’s more of shame or disappointment of bleeding heart or bruised ego wounded pride turns to cool indifference and the heat in my cheeks fades…
Tag: Man
Filthy God – A Hybrid Cento
she didn’t have time to suffer, or even to grieve, each time he’d thrust his organ deeply into her, her face had distorted. each time he did so, the squeals turned to something like sobs. the small hole in the pink that peeked out between the lips of her vagina would remain open at those…
Living Hell
circling the drain caught in the loop of a vicious cycle drowning in a stream of filth sullied by an unyielding torrent – she drinks in a living room alone in fraying pajama pants t-shirts too big on her bony frame wiry hair she washes only when she manages to drag herself out nursing the…
The Old Man and the Wealth of Nations
this old man walked up to me upon exiting the restroom at the entrance of a clinic and asked me if i’d read the wealth of nations by adam smith – i responded i had not as he seized the reigns of the conversation guiding us on a torrential path careening headlong into the rocks…
Life on the Low Road
old man spoke with tears in his eyes telling tales of better days about seasons which bled into each other like paint how colors seemed to fade a little each passing year – he remembered his childhood home how he left it went to new york one eve on a departing train refusing to look…
Amanita
sealed a tomb of modern amenity eggshell white enough to drive a man mad if he sits staring long enough to see his future etched in porous drywall drinking up the paint like a man half dead with dehydration the fumes of his condition poison mind in stagnant air of loneliness even animals know to…
Piecework Prose 