I Still Ignite My dreams

Squash face disciple of the blood teeth rock and roll bible
Dance your anger piety in my circle until we purge this overbearing hate
I didn’t fucking vouch for it
And it hurts
But broken nose prophets with our red dried t-shirts know the game
It’s all shit and poison pretense
So let’s take a dose of this defective, beautiful flame quench personality of move along with it
and burn the next four years into a fire big enough to light the wick of love and art
Ivory string poised to explode
in definitions of this millennium to come


Self-serving Night-guest

Distorted ghost of poet past found me in my dreaming
Offering none of the insight my soft breath begged for
Instead he came to further rattle the walls
Shake my evening psyche and do his dance
Selfish really,
I harbored the night-crazed vagabond
Spouting his peculiarities to echo in my head
All the while wondering if somehow he knew the answer,
What next?
But his eccentricity served as wicked distraction
And he escaped behind the white shock of daylight
Bringing me back to the grease stained corduroys, right where I left them