Sell Your Art
Sell Your Art
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Joined January 2008
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Numb with rage, / but I was born— / I think— / of desire.
A Longer Walk
up the contour of her tight jeans, and midriff baring black shirt with “Blow Me” in red lettering across her ample breasts, up to her porce…
The Long Walk
“It’s not like I don’t deserve to be here—” I cut off, bracing myself as another of the frequent sandstorms started.
No Comments Attached
There’s ink on my lips and ink on my heart, / there’s red pen on these tips as I tear myself apart.
A Stronger Man than I
No one ever said it was easy. / It didn’t have to be easy, / I never said I wanted it be easy.
A Smoker’s Lament
I needed to lose a lover, / but couldn’t quite decide
How do you not feel bad for that girl
“If it were easy, man, then we’d all be doing it.”
“Rent starts at 1,800 and goes up to 6,000.”
“You remind me like of rain, but not like all rain, just the good kind, the hard kind.”
It was a winter kiss on a summer night, all frost and heat tangled into passion.
And dream just a little longer to the end of the song
Will she dance in the dark? / How does she kiss in the morning?
Used and Forgotten
Pull my hair then pull me in and tell me / “This isn’t impermanence,
More questions than answers / as I answer all the addictions
you’ll bury me beneath the weight
Those Who Burn Brightest
Some women you can’t help but want to keep…
“I want to turn you on,” / Bruised and strained,
…happy for the sake of laughter, / ignoring the throngs of chatter, / and content being no one other than me.
All You Need
She whispered it into the silence of the room as if afraid it would be challenged.
Overdose of Dreams
Over and above everything else
It was an idle question.
It was hope / and it was a dream / and it was irreplaceable.
If tears were an ocean / and the ocean was in me / then I’d cry for all the years / I’ve drowned in the sea.
With hands that ached from the bitter cold,
No story is a story without a proper beginning. And no beginning is proper if it didn’t have a girl. / Stash had a girl once.
These stains are in me. / As I look around and wonder / What’s happened to this city?
An Awkward Conversation
“C’mon, c’mon.” She rolled her hand in that hurry-it-up way he hated almost as much as being hurried. “What’s on your mind?”
Between something / Dark / and something / Worse / and something / Reborn
Normal as T.V.
It was April 16, 1984.
It’s been a long fucking road I thought
Shades of Gray
He said “demon” and she said “go to hell.” Been there, done that, bit hot for me, thanks.
Broken goes with bent / Like headaches go with nonsensical tests / That test the limit of the mess / Of confusion regarding…
That Kind of Girl
Headlong hormones / and the rush of indecision
I have a life list that looks neurotic / and fantasies that are neurotic / if nothing else besides romantic,
A tremor in the eye / a shudder at his kind
The Devil Wears Khaki Pants
At the end of the day, in the words of Billy Joel, “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints…”
Eulogy of Fresh Laundry
The grass wasn’t cool, but it tickled my bare ankles; my chair wasn’t remarkably comfortable, but it was mine; and the train in…
I saw my first sunrise on my twenty-fifth birthday.
Beneath the darkened sky, / And the reverent eye / of a girl who sees more than she says, / hates more than she loves, / and loves more t…
Compounded spaces / and all that’s left / are the residual traces / of a nervous gesture.
The feel of her lips / amid the sound, / and the corruption that visits / gathers everyone around,
Walking was one of the few things he could still do on his own, and he’d be goddamned if he let that go easily.
I’ve seen so many ladies, / I’ve seen so many women, / I’ve seen so many pretty things / straight from heaven.
Bit of lipstick / on the / nightstand,
All I Could Say
And every unlit cigarette’s / just another burn hole / in my sense of needing you less / than I needed a drag.
A Series of Images
Sit and remember / an idea, / captured / in an image, / hidden / within a photo, / disguised / beneath a blood stain.
Worse, his soul, or essence, or karma, or jive, or whatever the hell you want to call it, was about as black as the lungs of a thirty-year …
And the Dance Continues
It was just past four o’clock on a Wednesday that’d started out as any other Wednesday in the history of mid-week boredom.
Gray, Dorian, age 25
Write this. Right now. / Better yet. / Burn this. Right now. / And maybe you can save yourself.
Back to that Night
Hell, not for me to claim one God over another. / I’m not claiming you as a goddess / but I sure as shit can’t find a word / that doesn’…
The Other Guy
She fingers my convictions with a dry knuckle, / And whispers the words / “you’re not able. / You want me to be your whore?”
Stand By Me
as I’m face down on the floor, / as my stomach’s getting pumped, / as all inspiration’s nothing new, / and I’m nothing more than a dried…
No wonder I couldn’t satisfy, / all the shit we’ll never go through, / all the lives we’ll never live through / are becoming very clear …
If she were a drug then he knew instantly that he’d end up as another of those overplayed songs, dead in a back alley. ‘At least I’d die wi…
All my sins are just cheap fantasies played out in someone else’s backyard.
Headlights on a Highway
Headlights on a highway, / thinking of disaster, / but also thinking of all those places I’ve never been.
Just Another Road
But as I drove down this road that could’ve been the same road I always traveled, I couldn’t help feeling like they all have to go somewher…
Moment for the Moment
A streetlight flickered off and on, never quite one but always a little of the other.
Final Run at the Boardwalk
There was a crunch underneath my sneakers of loose stone pressed flat, worn smooth by countless others, and trampled beneath the weight of …
Not So Young
A song drifted across the porch, (Van Morrison cloaking itself around a woman that was once a girl), and I was so grateful that I didn’t ha…
He was jolly, clad in red, and morbidly obese. It had to be Santa. He said, “Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas!”
With my ear pressed to the cold tracks listen’n / To the train that ain’t really coming,
Hidden between the subway platform and the streets, / Tucked neatly behind the stars and midnight, / You lose yourself to everyone / But wh…
Drip…drips…drip. Every drip was another drop from a forty foot ledge into an inky black pool of regret.
Water scaled down the drab buildings, dripped from torn awnings, collected in the gouges of the sidewalk, slid into foul sewers, mixed with…
Is It So Hard
“I could be dead for all you care. You want to leave,” he waved a dismissive hand, gesturing toward the squalor of the small apartment outs…
He half-expected his father to shout from the other room, “of course things change, look at me, I’m dead. You’re alive, and I’m dead.”
I cried out to a god I’ve never seen, / while facing down demons.
If one didn’t know better than they’d think she was sculpted of marble from an artist at the height of their career.
Coin Operated Character
Every skilled pick of the strings was another pick of the imagination. Every clear chord resounded in my heart like a gong, vibrating loude…
Miles from where you are, / but only minutes from where I should be / there is ice.
King of the Kitchen
I thought of taking it in the bedroom. / ‘If only’ I mused ‘I wasn’t too drunk to remember.’
It’s not easy to say there are some faces we never forget.
‘No, I won’t sell my soul, shut up, stop asking, and get out of my head. Get out of my head, I won’t sell my soul.’
Goodbye San Fran
San Francisco, / with the flowers in your hair. / Mold them into killers.
Spirit of an Age
Grass, with its fiery roots burning hot in hell, / while it burns hot in my lungs, / and I just pray for release.
She deftly rolled the guitar pick between her fingers like an aged rock star, despite having never played.
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