Inked

i'm waiting for things beautiful
to write
desolation is still staring
from under my pen
as too
the wrinkled piece
of paper
like many of the other things
better left naked

Bed of roses

i have nothing to breed but silence
there are flies in my stomach
that have not fed on roses
for a while
my hands are full with breasts
i think they said something
it was a funny feeling
                      inside

A regular occurrence

Squatting intently at the edge of the
pond
he had been launching stones into
the water
as if to find holes

a wise man passing by looked over in disgust
and said
"you could be doing a lot more with your life,
you could change something in the world"


the young man turned around in amusement
"can't you see i'm trying?"

Perplexity

there are noises of cars
pumping smoke
in my dreams
trees lying on roadsides
smiling
dragging themselves to dirt
in search for the sea
and still smiling

as wines choke to their
final vows
peace is abound
in trained thoughts..