Current Residence: Massachusetts|
Former Residences: Montreal, QC
Los Angeles, CA
And various towns within Massachusetts
Some of my favorite songs.
Baby NamesMy naked chin and I,Baby Names by Craazhy
sound of body.
A burning butterfly.
the smoldering whispers of "freedom"
ricochet past twin strippers sliding down twin poles.
Mercury and Saturn are neither the names they were given at birth.
Salem for boy.
Violet for girl.
Heaving amalgamations of jealousy and pure naivete.
Three oscillating fans, twenty cigarettes, thirty cans of beer.
One sinking sunshine. One gentle summer breeze. One sage lake, handy for drowning.
One idealist, bent on the idea that goodness begets goodness.
Yet, a malevolent universe breathes new life.
Sing a lullaby.
Say that everything will be okay.
The winds up high by the bush planes and painted skies
still carry the tune a grandmother sang to an infant named Zachary.
A futile poem.
Discordant of mind,
my broken heart and I.
Plywood CowboyTwo oars and a rain coat on a churning, brass ocean of wheat in the clear, afternoon lightPlywood Cowboy by Craazhy
accompanied the screams for help.
One, white cloud formed the shape of a woman.
Not just any woman.
the tidal waves of Venus's envy.
the wanderer stoked the campfire and let the smoke of the cigarette linger in his mouth
with a song eternally for one.
BridgeportLife and death have abandoned BridgeportBridgeport by Craazhy
where friction is holiness and sin.
A gentlewoman yawns so people will think she is tired.
Docks in the harbor are scuffed by ships no one sees.
The glow on the horizon is neither sun nor moon.
Press iron into steel.
Ingot into flame.
Pain into sacrifice.
Pull water over sand.
A gentlewoman asks "do you remember the moon?"
Dogs bark into this window, knowing what they see.
The wind in the long, gray sky has grown tired
because there is no higher sin
than what remains in Bridgeport.
Aluminium SweatZero-point-seven inches off an acrylic cylinder,Aluminium Sweat by Craazhy
Twenty-one gallons of mechanical coolant,
a beating heart no more.
One spider across the windshield,
[9^2 (14,423,988 ÷ 200) + 5,131,991] ÷ 1,291300.68222222
a pestilence of incompetence upon the earth,
Four times since Thursday,
rain is pouring.
disenchantmentyou kissed medisenchantment by cristinewakesuphappy
and i floated for days.
tiny wings were
ripping my spine open,
longing for flight.
the lip-lock was like
pressing your mouth
against the rim of a coffee cup:
you didn't think more of it.
in a year, i tongued a guy
not of your stature.
not my taste.
my wings pulled back,
© June 14, 2015