"I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe" ~ Sir Philip Sidney

Share the Wealth by Hungry Ghosts Sharon, technically, Rose of Sharon, called harrowing as it was, at the bookstore after Lynn, technically, Jennifer Lynn regal, committed suicide, I bawled every human being makes their own choice theater of thaumatūrgus, before his resurrection from the dead, kingpin emerges triumphant, but she is gone Wealth is meaningless without friends, her voice emulated Lauren Bacall, smoky as cigars and cognac, a low timbre liquid oxygen to my ears, low-key theater of miracles, of wonder haunted by the cat in the box, at dawn burnt by the sun, undeserving, I fall yes, into confusion, my blood runs cold Haunted by hunting dogs, I am a stag until I understand, Erwin, I bawl nothing but narrow-minded people here given the world of hungry ghosts, I fold religious pamphlets to burn as a gag yes, they take this seriously, I laugh Ghosts are imaginary, as I fear hold hands with Jennifer after she cries only if I could have made her happy stil...

This is not a novel, let me repeat history cannot repeat itself, now is the flow of time a blockage, a dream stories tell a narrative of defeat is memory itself a memory sit in meditation, get up and bow no one else in the room, let out a scream others enter, full of concern, they care to say this life is but a reverie a waking dream, absorbed in the details nothing but the beautiful distractions observe how, in this world, history fails volumes written, no account transactions elbow my way through the room, do I dare let them say what they want, arms akimbo let me display authority, a joke even without a precedent, actions talk through the mushrooms and the trees, window timorous view, the wind communicates intentions before history, I poke my friend the bear to see the attractions every ride at the amusement park speaks repetitively, the bear hibernates each time I poke my friend, the bear, he cries perhaps he needs his sleep, his beauty rest each time I poke...

I hate this life, wish I were never born I woke up too early, at 4 a m hungry and tired, I showered and dressed as my time conflicted with my girlfriend terrible beauty, the given, a gem endlessly in pain and sorrow, the point thirsty for irrelevance, as you guessed history consumes my future, the end isometric as horror flows in waves simple connections flex at every joint life swings like a pendulum in moments in this world, arbitrary and random for chaos as conceived within events emulates this, a double pendulum watches a tsunami come and go, saves ignorance, a birthright, humanity shuffles their feet, as if with little sleep honestly, hypocrisy reigns supreme I cannot remember insanity without effort to resolve perspective effort to seek context, draw me a sheep remember to say please, is this a dream each moment flows through every point in time nothing ever seems neutral, Detective empires rise and fall, all is in flux virtue as Arête, social control e...

Trionfi If you choose the path of fear over love for myself and my ex-wife, this was so yes, for love trumps fear, as a game of Whist of course, the past holds secrets from above understood as red flags, for in hindsight chamber of horrors mimics childhood, no honestly, I was to blame, as a twist only I could not see my own actions only, I could see, in a certain light such as in reflection, we drifted apart each to their own, a waste of time, marriage this much, I admit was my fault, to start helplessly, hopelessly, with a carriage each to their own with family transactions perhaps, I was naive, stupid and young as if hubris, Greek words, could make me smart that language is a gateway to knowledge how science imagines wisdom, I clung onto erroneous beliefs, long held from fear of change, my character as art fear is a drug, addictive, with no edge endlessly, blunted on reality absolutely, how two lives cannot meld rely on each other, a family overtures of love,...

On the train with me, this I imagine Only, imagine, I am so lonely no one but Leila understands this trip the Amtrak to California, two days hungry, tired, while her face, so comely except, she is just a dream, just a name train rides across the countryside, a blip remains in my brain, my thoughts in a haze all alone, except for Leila, a dream in a rocking coach chair, who can I blame not CIA/FBI ignorance with no sense of consequences, who cares in this world, these conditions, take a chance that mistakes happen, an event, who bears honest accountability, I scream murder never makes anything better except for the tabloids, I read the news this trip is my duty to visit mom honestly, if she could knit a sweater in her youth for my dad, now that is love still, I know that I cannot sing the blues I am a success at failure, da bomb imagine, I am with Leila, alone maybe she is a real woman, above all the politics, but what does she do given she is online, from ti...

As one, a murmuration of starlings As Stone Fox sits deep in meditation silent and motionless, no skin to scratch one with direct experience and mind nothing to gain, total abnegation essentially, one with deep time, a bird a falling starre, Lucifer, Goe, and catche mission accomplished, but what did you find understanding empty as the blue sky remember, all events connect, the word murmurations of starlings, beauty found ugliness, the grotesque, as a mindset relinquish duality, none are bound aesthetic incarnation, to regret tick bites after the deer, do not ask why in wavelengths, the brain oscillates, pink noise outside versus inside, show the difference neurons snap like fingers, the length to span orchids like ballet dancers, full of poise forgiven their silence, vultures and wolves stare, empty, hungry ghosts, nothing makes sense take a look at the sky, starlings to scan artistic randomness, controlled chaos remember Stone Fox sits, listens for hooves lig...