Category: Prose
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A Drink
Rum and pepper and spice and heat. Drums that tell the heart how to beat. Dicks and cunts and fucking tongues. High fru clothes wrecked in low fru funs. Here. On the house. Rum. Games and players and bets and marks. Masks and airs and would-be sharks. Tables and corners and bars and dirt. Old…
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The Claim
A drop of red for the deep blue sea. A drop of red “to remember me”. A drop of red, a branding mark. “This one belongs to me.” A sea of blue that forsook the sky. A sea of blue waves low and high. A sea of blue, a world apart. “This one belongs to…
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Fading Love
The cards were almost as old as me. They were well used. They were well loved. They had long ago ceased to be the darling of collectors. They remained your beloved. I would slip them between my fingers. Faded ink still smiling from the paper’s memory. Edges softened from callused hands. To feel them was…
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Guilt
Forgive me for my absence, friend. The dark was kept from me. The light was blinding. Forgive me for my absence, friend. And for arriving too late. Forgive me for doubting, friend. My wine was not cut. The water too sweet. Forgive me for doubting, friend. And for loving the lie too well. Forgive me…
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A Type of Cure
I shall be your Gilded Apple. I shall be squeezed into wine. Watch my blood turn the silver black. Drink. I shall be your blessed philter. I shall be the poisoned cure. Watch my worms under your skin crawl. Drink. I shall be the silent scapegoat. I shall tally the deposited sins. Watch my fire…
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It’s Bad
“Bad” I said, for bad it is. ‘Tis plain for all to see. While others stood and hemmed and hawwed, I stood and left it be. “Bad” They said, for bad it is. There is no room for doubt. While they backed away from it, not sure what it’s about. “Bad” They said, and left…
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Magic Journal: 2012-11-15.01
Pulling free the warp. Rethreading the weft. Untangling the knots while keeping the tension tight. Three to the right. One to the left.
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The Exile’s Welcome
I do not understand the words. You speak in syllables beyond the ken of this shattered mortal mind. I do not understand the words. But I understand the pain and anguish that shakes the timbre and foul the perfect pitch of your crying.
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Pullulate
. Here There And then A multitude spreads Quickly sprouting from forgotten seeds Bursting forth with unchecked desire and insatiable fecundity Ripening into clusters of over sweetened lust that rip into each other greedily Leaving a trail of life and devastation that turns onto itself with a spiral helix twist, splitting into diverse bacchanal expressions…
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No.
Don’t need to explain my rationalization. Don’t need your approval of my justification. Don’t need your permission to have vindication. I still have the right to say, “No.”. Don’t care if your friends all think I’m mean. Don’t care if you think I’m causing a scene. Don’t care if you call me a Drama Queen.…