What to Castrate?

If the phrase, 'I am disappointed in you!' Could be castrated. I would hang it upon a wall. Hung high above the impediments of swollen doors. Hung high in a disorderly hall Then, perhaps, an inscription of my own wants...five feet tall. 'Alas, so am I!' In equality,  the tattered room could be made small. … Continue reading What to Castrate?


Old Slaughterhouses

Sultry subtleties, of change have surrounded the camp. Red leaf, blue sky, old slaughterhouses... Not a one to ask, 'why?' Just the stillness of what used to be. Infatuated with lies. From one breath to another. 'What brings you here?' Only met up with assorted feral cries. Fashioned by the old. But surrounded by new. … Continue reading Old Slaughterhouses

Callous Scenes

Mystery lane? What beholds you? Shrouded in slow action. Covered in moss. Lethargic up 'til...a turning point. Colors of eyes that cross. A decadent decision to turn blue to black. Red to shattering yellow. Burning house orange to impassioned green. Soon, you are no longer a riddle. You are an action which will evaporate within … Continue reading Callous Scenes

The House on Main Street

Tell you what I remember. Slide shows. Kisses goodnight on the cheek. Hardwood floors that announced every creepy, creak. Plath read by dim light. A soiled brown journal... Locked up tight. Angry sentences filled with the holy spirit. Standing in line for the back of the familiar...weathered hand.   How long the hours can be. … Continue reading The House on Main Street

the House that Eugene Built

Had my soul been a house. It would have been filled with spirits of an anonymous kind. Disenchanted mirrors. Spouting monomers, not so refined. The phrase, "I love you." spoken in jest. "I love you." Bringing to my earth only dust. ♠ However, I am not a house. I am a woman made of pliable, … Continue reading the House that Eugene Built