You're looking at me as though I'm enough to strike your match, hit home; and it'll devour you, lungs first as you watch me, your worst. Frankenstein, you and I, your pocket litter. .      Ephemera balled in your jeans - Picasso of your genes.      You sud yourself neck-deep in      lemon scented hand… Continue reading Pentimenti


Kingmaker. White wine vinegar massacre. That’s what you are, Kerosene And that's what you do when you sculpt the world Like it’s your plasticine, your toy. Your five-billion-year-old bell boy On crooked knee by your calves Waiting to lift the sky on your command. And you’re not promising him El Dorado, or any land For that… Continue reading Kingmaker