– invisible ink –

Writing and typing up list upon list… no sign or sight of a Christmas wish, just persons unknown like a bum with no home – they complement my energy. Will I put down the pen of invisible ink? Will I give my life’s blood to revision? Can I put down the pen of invisible ink? […]

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– childish things –

Still mumbling, still jumbling all the thoughts that come about, run around, stay in town daily. Hear rumblings on my squeaky bunk bed, in between sneaky words that I could’ve said ’bout the red Power Ranger action figure gone missin’ or the absentee father and his absentee vision. Letting go could’ve flown me to the moon […]

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– will we be? –

My phantom… made of atoms… born from a woman’s womb just like me. We were ignorant, but blissful… no sight of any missile coming for our throats – guess that’s how the story goes. My phantom… once my anthem… singing on a living room couch nightly. Now taxes, taste, and tattletales some- how got in […]

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