Monthly Archives: August 2014

Restless; Or, Cheers to Being 20 and Stupid.

Bring the night, Its reckless cold To comfort and warm My bitter soul. To lead my arms In an embrace of day To leave my mind, my soul To decay. My veins are roadmaps to my heart My body is … Continue reading

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I’m Not Afraid of Dying

There’s a song on the radio as I drive To your house. It has something to do with isolation And how we use society as a cushion. Or maybe it’s about finally talking to your crush. I wasn’t paying attention. … Continue reading

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Snap, Crackle, Pop.

I’d be more spotaneous Were I less afraid Of combusting People look so Pretty When they explode. Ironic fireworks on Independence day. Flashing lights of our Freedom In a crude, homemade cage. I didn’t snap. I popped. And crackled. And … Continue reading

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Your Hipster Girlfriend- A Bad Haiku

I saw your girlfriend. The tiny girl in flannel, the art school drop out in her skinny jeans and fake, thick-rimmed black glasses. You picked a winner. Do you enjoy her vinyl collection of bands no one even knows? Does … Continue reading

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Hospice Eyes

Hospice-eyes spit daylight in a spiteful, restless tone; floats above a timeless flinch that breaks beneath the sheets. Rose-shade glass, that blinds your eyes, but fastens to your doubt. Daylight pours but can’t afford a brain-dead harmony. Through this rot, … Continue reading

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Quarter-Life Crisis

Casually, I slip into something more comfortable. No coyness- No wispy lingerie and feigned accidental black lace. I’m in baggy sweat pants And an XXL tshirt that catches the crumbs of my Quaker rice cakes as I watch reruns of … Continue reading

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Everunclear

The only thing that becomes clear As I take my second shot of Everclear Is that my alcohol tolerance is unreasonably high. I surmise that Bukowski and being 20 are to blame. My liver should speak up and tell me … Continue reading

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The Man with a Hotdog Cart – A Short Story

The streets of the city were loud with calls for taxis, cars honking at one another, and the general and expected business of a city’s mid-morning. As the sun lazily took it’s place in the sky, and the haze of … Continue reading

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Cracker Jacks

Brahmic gods and prophets with ancient masks Draw maps for an unseen journey. We trace our lives on tissue paper, Marking ourselves with pencil smudges. We’ve read the constellations for their answers, While writing ourselves among them. I watched a … Continue reading

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Paraside Wasp’ed

I was 12, and July was Nirvana. My yard was a construction zone of Whatever I happened to dream up that morning. There was a hornet’s nest outside. And while average-sized monsters Were found as expected, There was this one… … Continue reading

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