Thursday, August 25, 2016

Trash

A conduit of tears
is flailing through the past.
And as I sit and linger,
I wander toward the last
thought that crossed my mind.
These people, ever rash
don't seem to even bother
to pickup all their trash.
And I wonder why
I look like the ass,
as I'm trying, failing
to just maintain my grasp.
A conduit of tears
is falling as I passed.

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Empathic Anger

Empathic Anger


I have apologized for another man’s convenience. Even though I didn’t commit the slightest grievance. The deeds I committed were of the right, but I was forced to submission and pushed to plight. No longer will I lay down for my foes, they’ll have to account for their wrongs and their woes. I’m tired from the mistakes you’ve made, and weary at the plans you’ve laid. You have a grand design in your little mind, but despite your misgivings, I am still kind. Of all the schemes of mice and men, yours appear innocent all to often. Just a little oops and a tilted maybe, the kind of “magic” that would trick a baby. I see right through you with no need to make you disappear, because I know you better than you, what you feel, how you think, and what you fear.

Thursday, August 4, 2016

Corey Hudson

Does your chain hang low? Does it wobble to and fro? Do it shine in the light? Is it platinum is it gold? Does your chain hang low?

--

Or, rather, is it solid steel? Heavy as hell, metal, iron and real? Your visions are escapades of the present's sight. And their methods are reshaping all your means and might. A tangenting badass, herculian strength, this too may pass, but not without length.