Let’s lounge beneath a 60’s sun in the heat of mid-July; we’ll smoke full flavored cigarettes, and drink Tom Collinses while The Animals play. I love spinning records–It’s My Life. We’ll call out the neighbors with our vinyl airwaves heavy in the heat haze. Block party–yes!      

You’re a Dead Man

She met him in a bar near Central Station, a modish one at the top floor of an understated building. The weather was lovely for a late afternoon in October, still she didn’t wait outside for her date; she was incredibly thirsty due to violent nerves. So, Lucas found his ballerina lounging on the terraceContinue reading “You’re a Dead Man”

I Count His Dollars

Another drink! Gin and tonic, don’t mind if I do. And yes, I’ll have a hit of that shit, too. Or three. It helps to ease the pain. See, I like it best when I am numb. He likes it best when I am dumb–pliable. All of his women are manageable. I’m his favorite one.Continue reading “I Count His Dollars”

In Color

grain grey and silver light I sometimes dream in black and white flash paper film, flimsy flames flicker, monochrome whimsy and I am the tinder ashes fly, cigarette cinder I collect at your feet please do finish your whiskey neat I will watch you imbibe, classy bastard good with a gibe upon the floor myContinue reading “In Color”

because indifference

I don’t hate you, I hate myself instead because indifference is something that escapes me daily. You’ve set up shop inside my head, busy with your hammer and nails; it’s your new occupation, knocking down walls–building a bigger space for you to inhabit because I never could offer enough of myself. I’m not even yours,Continue reading “because indifference”

Oh, You Poor Girl

I dreamt of you–again. It’s been years, but in my sleep I still recall every feature of your fine pale face and the guttural tone of your voice. I can still smell menthol ciggies, and gin and tonic clinging to your breath. Every night I spend with your phantom banging around inside my head, IContinue reading “Oh, You Poor Girl”

You cannot have me as you like.

I know, I know, I’m such a drag– It sucks You cannot have me as you like.   A menthol ciggie in my mouth, Whiskey and diet soda– Quietly drunk I  write alone. Yeah, you know I’m such a drag. And you cannot have me as you like.   I know, I know, I’m suchContinue reading “You cannot have me as you like.”

Eternally October

In his dreams, she dances In and out of shadow and luminescence. Her liquescent movements are reminiscent Of a languid flame that once danced for the rose candle, Which now sits cold, useless— Dead since late October.   He breathes deeply scents of Sandalwood and rose, the essence of her hair. He tastes the redolenceContinue reading “Eternally October”