Isolated Dextrocardia 

Exodus rampage under carrion skin  
When he entered her, urbane cerebral cortex 
In a dream, the death a soul architects  
The labor of the commission of this trade structured with the walls closing in 
Your words drawn like a blade 
Infecting your veins heeding way to exulansis  
Unforgiven eremition  
You bent the truth so you could 
Play the victim 
What is real fades 
Nuptials paranoia no longer to blame  
She wrote one time, just bury me in red 
Not withholding another fight 
The crumbling of struts foundationalized on the road to the bar the one-legged man
wheeled himself up the concrete mountain abiding him thinking his plight is just like ours  
Push me off the edge, he thinks  
What you do not realize just yet is that you will be another sacrifice 
Picking an age for certain death you realize years and events must abide 
To render a finite truth  
Things do not get better 
They conclude quite tragically and everything is meaningless  
So take this psychomachy oath with the long sober night  
I cannot live with myself, I cannot lie to myself  
So lie a life, a moral and ethical responsibility  
This feeling you get  
Rope severed, this cycle 
All consumed by the numbered symptoms you create 
There is no shelter beneath the tempest  
Tornado misdirection has made you sick 
We let the knot go, we let it unwind 
Meant to be buried with those exlives  
But you dug in deeper with that same knife 
Leaving in a spiraling handle east and west across the spine  
Lady Macbeth applauds in the audience  
There is blood on your hands and teeth and between your legs  
These men now who reside in these yellow woods  
Did they realize when they had their last laugh? 
Or been loved ever again? 
The presence of a reasonable woman  
Cast out to this sickbed for all too late penance  
The American made healthcare system this time ascribed to heal all wounds  
So you hold out for a nicotine miracle  
Soap chips in your lungs saudade reminiscenza   
It becomes difficult to sleep with the open-ended sky falling  
Rich off this inheritance of golden silence and counterfeit idleness  
But the truth is, time stolen comes at a price  
You dance around the subject  
Tiptoeing around the bad news  
The ebony decorated Ballerina  
Emptiness in what we confess  
Concretized by the dimmest hour of day  
These broken heart dramas make the low sad sounds of prey 
Coming to you in a dense cloud 
Where Moses led to the top of the mountain  
The egg will be cracked wide open 
Let the fires of Dunsinane at last perish 
Curing isolated dextrocardia  
Where the heart once pointed in the wrong direction.  

White Trash Hell  

Been through the breakups and the shakes 
Anchored a young heart 
Cold waves crashing on defaced shorelines 
All the clamshells have been pillaged 
Pearls tied up in chains 
Dunes of gutless, mindful, beached whales 
Nothing but meat 
This apocalyptic love 
Felt different seasons 
Murdered intimacy running out of time looking for something to do 
Boredom ceased our purple hearts 
It all ends the same 
What you said in the beginning was sacred 
To shame 
From the cradle to the grave 
Mouths turning grenades 
Nuclear matrimony buried in these touch-and-go mausoleums 
With regret to inform you 
This is trench warfare 
There are bodies everywhere 
They laughed when he told her he had no sense of smell 
Her rot brought effluvium back to him 
Something like cruor on the wind 
We become ringed saints 
It went from cold rain to hurricane real quick 
God damned every man 
The woman who is a snare 
Very last Christmas had sensations of a funeral 
We are going to be the ones to see the inconclusive conclusion 
A romantic Roman noir out on those bluffs we danced our way over 
Foretold it was a bad seed 
In you 
Swallowing salt water 
Unimaginable thirst 
Let me tell you something 
Barely making ends meet 
Left distances between you and me 
And three women 
Daniella 
On the verge of the banks of your body 
Runs rivers down my spine 
Coarse felo de se blondes ever since 
A dime a dozen left me penniless 
Yeah it sounds hubris 
But how could it 
After what we did to each other 
Bound to this wreckage 
Chewed my own wrists to get me out of this trap 
White trash hell 
Out yonder shooting the poisoned horses 
Intertwined intimately 
Inhumanely grueling swapping of spit 
With nothing ever said 
When things are replayed and worn out 
Sacrilegious waste 
Been garbage picking for something like grace. 

You Know

Sitting there making it all about him 
Pretending that this earth is not hollow 
Superficial sorrowful pleasures manufacturing peace 
How about only sobriety from pain 
And can it just be argued away 
This soul is only borrowed  
He is trying to keep the drama discreet but it is disheartening  
Looking away from the wreckage by those blinding summer flurries  
No one cares to see we just might be sinking 
Playing catch-up with these last-ditch amends 
Leaves him thinking 
How is he to go on breathing when he cannot stop the bleeding 
Let us keep pretending 
Memories of those seppuku butterflies she blossomed  
He does not think she knows 
Just exactly what she took from his soul  
It is insane  
That we make it  
This love actually from nothing 
He is feeling a bit weary    
She says she is blameless  
It tangles him a bit speechless 
Not even the waves make a sound  
Disappointed they will leave this earth without one last kiss 
The first in the dirt 
Crashing bones and that paper tree 
Digging it up his head sails north laughing before bowing his face to it  
The more he pushes through as though he needs this redamancy he cannot find a reason that implies a worth 
You might wonder how he can lie on his back and call it quits with this knife breaking skin 
What he sees now is this heartbreak was a bridge to kairosclerosis  
Comprehending suicide through fleeting images  
Can just about taste the bullet 
The best revenge comes from no one knowing it 
Made enough spectacle of this dark moment  
Dearest, he is gone to this saga of everlasting kuebiko 
The grief swung back on him with a vengeance  
Every sunset resembles bloodshed  
This is all his fault he knows it 
Do not write him off just yet 
He is doing fine penning that story 
A good old boy pulling himself up by his bootstraps failing to mend his heart 
He lets himself down with an unsound mind  
Dying alone forgetting every prayer, oh the winter he knows  
So take his worst intentions and his words for their worth  
Made him feel he has no purpose 
Questioning his reason for being  
What changed, it was all worth the affliction or a state of anemoia  
Starting to feel her slip away 
He hates that it feels like he has been here before 
Knowing what was good in her will forever be the best part of him  
He cannot let her go 
When he sees her again she will not be alone  
Deserved much better than him  
Do not be afraid, darling, he thinks under a sky sifting more than the sea, 
You are really quite wonderful 
He is left chasing hate  
On her way up Jacob’s Ladder  
He knows he will see her face when he resides in that dark and lonely corner 
Fantasizing about that tomorrow 
Where it was always her hand in his  
Them against the world  
She is divine  
All good things come to an end  
For him it was always teetering and on the line  
Repeating these degenerative cycles over and over again  
Trying to quit blaming people  
Just stopped falling in love instead 
A decision lingering to breathe in at the bottom of that cold river  
Bottomless faith in words as deeds and foxhole prayers useless poetry 
Letting the desiderium close with that loop 
Filling his lungs with any smoke  
The only knot he would tie the noose 
This Old Testament lecture on how she walked away and took everything 
There was this moment you see  
Behold an isolated man alone forever with good reason  
Atop it all and questioning 
He is so low  
Has to drink himself to death to vanquish this anagapesis  
Rehabilitation period is over  
Here is to chasing it with apocalypse   
You look like shit, they say  
That is ignorant  
What he sees  
He is shooting for death and documenting mindlessness ahead of the curtain  
We are at stake to lose everything  
This very certain bankruptcy of the human heart  
Everything in a life made uncertain  
Driving through the Verrazzano  
Felt like entering her  
And endlessly driving off of it  
Taking on that water thresher  
He is left drowning without a rope 
Sure in need of another blonde in a minute  
Losing her was like wasted youth  
Where is the exit sign to this plagiarized life  
Do not let this foolishness cloud the only judgement of her  
She as a bride will be peak biblical beauty of a human being  
A lottery without the stones he casted  
Always been a parable for demise  
Starving as he feeds 
His pessimism a knowing  
They did not care to listen 
These conscience noctivagance blackouts are unsettling 
Dwelling on the other side of the moon 
Where her shadow crawls forever 
He is done with people  
She waited on the right thing and gave it a universe   
It is all he can see  
This loss consuming   
Vices are softening the ways of first touches 
He is breaking away towards new pastel  
Incendiary and falsified  
Here is another postponed self-annihilation  
He cannot tell the difference between an axe to grind or a night to cave  
Written in irrelevant ash 
Ready to leave it all behind, was it even real? 
Everything he has left to say is in vain 
Looking for closure cruelly scratching at scars 
He cannot fight it enough 
Caught between church bells and siren song  
There will be a warrant left sifting the abyss 
What grave will be made of this world?  
What grave can be made of him? 
It is hard to accept how afraid he has become  
A piece of him gone and completely erased  
Tracking his existence to what he once found 
Blinded by these difficult truths  
Even though they are burned keep those pages by your side 
Wait for him and just stay 
Sick to death of being alive 
When did it come down to one last cigarette? 
Being this old young 
The fire will not catch, a match refuses to spark  
High wind he cannot breathe 
Tossing away the nicotine he falls to his knees everything darkening defending these small and spazzing flames 
All that gale turning at odds with this translation of light. 

Hail 

Everything gallops as dilapidated dogs 
And this melancholy is as lovely as blessed palms  
These dandelion seeds turned to ash, make a wish   
The secular and the sacred pave acres of distressed syllables 
That ultimate decision that is finite changes everything 
What litters the pavement after an accident  
Spawns Satan, you saw him  
He was right there in the passenger seat teeth grinning  
Here we are at the deep  
All resources exhausted trying to mend this stream of memories haunting him 
If you are not understanding it is this  
The labor of such a loss 
That you cannot get over and  
One last thing, last thing  
Where does one go  
When what they thought of love and trust is completely ruined inside their head  
With nothing left 
Even if you were not thinking it  
Prey to the sin of inattention  
You were wishing it  
This certain demise 
Words left unsaid cancerous  
He would not wish it on anyone finding out the hard way 
A winter lake resembling the blood within an amnesia heart 
Slow moving and full of chards  
These future graveyards 
A bullet in every poem  
You know what the truth is  
Deny it you will 
Go on and make your own  
The ships are coming in full dark  
How is it that we all become miserable  
This contemptuous relationship with age and the gun 
These people have no idea that they are starving 
Sucking down roaches with vultures circling 
Measuring degrees of degradation each wavering day 
You would think he came from overseas 
Driving six hours a day writhing poetry in his head  
The only light at the end of this tunnel is an amber cigarette hole  
It always leads back to her  
With all these words there is no way to cope 
It is because who you are 
The clouds are alps in the sky 
Rags of soft light upon the blue black 
Starving for weeks surviving on desperation and things that make him sick 
If it lends a hand to death sign him up for it  
What is beneath cannot be worse than this Edenic cage 
Never skipping that drink despite the nausea and the pain 
Even with two hours of sleep  
Sweating out each and every day and conversation  
These hotel rooms are starting to feel like pews 
He hopes she never forgets what it is like to kiss in the rain 
Tippy toes and broken spines 
Parked a car on the freeway  
Walking toward incoming traffic 
The immensity of it all shrinking him 
That stillness the moment before a hope of coming back from going into the dark a long way  
It feels like a poison, these self-created hells 
Bringing tornado alley everywhere he goes  
This was how he always wanted it 
A world divided, these are the things he thinks of 
Wreckages   
The invalid offices of inescapable disease  
Before him a sun rising 
The holy spirit all but a haunting, the one that lied the most 
Samarian mythology says the flood was the punishment the gods inflicted on man because of the house he made 
In that case pick a point and swim  
But watch where you are walking  
Because it is your cracked silhouette with strange hands ravaging it beckoning every horizon  
Ruination moods and beyond doomed 
All alone and wide awake 
Every church is hypocrisy and all the saloons are empty 
The strings of this life blistering  
An impact made where certain people might notice his absence  
There is blood on that note 
It would be hubris to think we can change a thing 
Do not go, he is barely hanging on with what is inside of his own heart  
Hardly still proud and very low  
Her inscriptions in that book 
Circling a passage with his name written  
Plath it was, leaving him ruined  
The braille of her language imagined as skin  
Thus, a shadow of an honorable downfall all around him 
Of a love that never came  
Taking every shape 
What a mess we have made   
A novel sail across that underground river 
Telling of a truly demented family  
Oblivious to their ripe depravity  
Cherish it and remember him 
There is not much time left  
To not be consoled by a thousand prayers 
Hail Mary, in your silence 
Magdalene, were you critical even of Him 
Would you settle for the ghost when boredom sinks in and those demons molt  
Forsaken, a decorated victim to ambition and intelligence gone wrong  
Pour one out for the saintly outcast  
Resigned to this belligerent colonization of these complacencies to scrutinizing despairs  
How is he to preserve this burden of regarding illusions   
In glory to a vandalized language   
The names of authors in need of translation  
A stranger persists  
Sustaining the power of unreality  
Giving sermons at cemeteries  
Annihilation is his angel  
A letter canvasing odyssey  
Imagine the very moment  
Not just the trigger pull but after it  
The time spent hedging your bets comes back in the end 
A vicious cyclone you will not know what hit  
What courage is needed to end this?  
What murder need be committed? 
Buried alive a long time and the dirt is scrupulous 
So here at last the building begins, a handyman yet with all this digging  
Another day screaming out 
Thank you, dear lord, he thinks 
To be under your sun  
This pale breath in his lungs 
It is quite a notable miracle but 
The rotations of this world  
Have become sickening  
Damned people within 
All love is proxy and capsizing  
Welcoming these idle blessings  
Bodes the question  
Dear father  
Let him slip away in the dark 
And be nothing  
She has shown him the futility of resistance  
You are as quotable as a philosopher  
Blabbering on in Machiavellian tongue  
You sell what you preach  
Adjacent to these warped perceptions and narratives 
Total loss of tribute 
This public restroom aura  
Enshrouds all things that used to be  
Despair fluttering about the chest 
Bodily coffin cocoons trapping the butterfly in harsh silk  
Like them budding leaves on exoskeleton trees this vapid spring 
Those high red winds  
Juxtapose stagnant symmetries under the stars and their unbecoming  
Spirit dolor wound tight, the circadian is disjointed and screaming 
A legion of winged beasts 
Buzzing around like untuned violins  
These disconsolate stressors have hung negative beliefs 
Swinging ornaments in a mind  
Decadence to these anxieties  
He can feel your bad acute vibrations  
Taking a toll fundamentally  
On the immediate harmony of this rope waiting for him 
A gate to places unknown 
We have become guilty  
Hang them high 
Relentless shameful severing   
Let him swing 
Where dreams come true 
And new nightmares bloom. 

Crimes Against God and the Crown  
 

1 
 

It seems that the trees are losing weight 
I think there is something wrong with me  
What was meant to mend them tiny little earthquakes you planted within  
Now only breathes terrible things 
Still with them shakes 
And every hit and pull makes me sick  
Confronting the world with a smile on my face  
Even with this blade so deep within  
Lady Dearest  
The slow knife of grief keeps turning 
Something of a spell beyond remedy 
Condemned to it  
Not meant to be outlived but to outrun its malevolence  
Dirt beneath fingernails despite this indolence 
Buried alive, we envy the oppressor   
When the doctor said you bear an existentialist heart  
That I would die young  
Right there even having given it up  
I fell in love  
How can one live and be strong paired to this youth 
A Holy Ghost without skin and bone  
Walking a breath away from a heart caving in   
Referencing Fitzgerald even  
Zelda turning the tables  
The smoke from the ashes of that tragic love story  
Waiting out this heart-attack 
Fanning the flames and praying  
Going from hell and back again I assure you Gethsemane is not a myth 
A pain that has snuffed out the sun  
Sentencing crimes against God and the Crown  
Values and virtues gone south  
Alone for the ascension to nothingness  
This gyre landscape, you will find me at the Skull 
All of Job’s little brothers  
In the arms of strangers naked  
Where lost kinship paints its pavements  
A pedophilic love map on her skin hosed by the enemy.  
 

2 
 

Here it is 
That distance between the asphalt sifting past dead dreams and astray naivety 
Them uncertain depths and distant terrain 
Of that unattended concrete  
The big deep far out parking lot space 
That emptiness between indefinite atmospheres   
Unchecked and littered we drag these lives over broken glass  
Do we fear God when we carry the same sentence? 
(the sentence is life) 
This long nihilistic story  
Is an answer to its own question  
That life is suffering  
What would I be missing? 
So here is a tale of making the considerable exit all worth it  
Is it Helen or is it Heaven  
Tasting her bonded the two   
Here we are 
This apoplectic reverence 
The cruelest of madness and folly 
Love no longer an achievement 
The crown golden with locks of mane 
God is dead, they are shouting Her name in the streets 
It is a woman supreme and beautifully reiterative.   
 

3 

At the sparing tree it comes to be I cannot even break a twig  
For there is enough being torn of this earth  
Every blade of grass carries a rhythm 
And it is strange how not another human touch portents the maiden   
She spins with each slow rotation  
That velvety world  
This place, her embrace, 
Her grace my grave  
I can see her dancing and laughing and combing her hair every swirl of it 
Brooding out a consciousness  
I miss you down to the wire  
Sometimes I can hallucinate you and just the way you move  
Despite all this  
What I can tell of dealing with your absence 
Assured knowledges  
There is no making it out alive.  
 

4 

She has got a lover 
Inside our old lighthouse, foreign shores, guiding anyone inside 
I do not have the heart to ask her how she could go on and do this to me twice 
Does he know about the stain under those old sheets 
As he commits mortal sin 
Does whatever he pleases  
She liked the sun waking her up like a white lie  
Little brother, I know your vitriol  
To those who drink themselves into a coma spending broken summers getting mashed to bits, high
and exhausted, and talking about ending it   
Because you do not know that when you go, we all go  
With you  
You got me holding on to a cut so deep 
With all those cigarettes looking for God down some darkened riverside, not a beacon or star in sight  
These second-degree murder romances 
You will die wanting something different. 

5 
 

I clench my teeth and ball my hands and reckon that nobody knows I carry a murder inside of my
soul  
The sun is shining but it is raining in my mind  
Love and loss and lightning strikes  
It all seems the same at night  
Over quick and never the same twice  
Oh, if you could see her now  
Toilworn and beautiful and bouncing joyous on her heels of languish 
And you know how it goes  
This love and blood money  
Another day you are bitter in my head  
This is me  
Can we go round again? 
I do not know where it went wrong  
Chewed out and spitting blood holding soot 
Can we wait for this notion to pass on to suspicion? 
I am on the run from consecrated terror  
There is meaning to the meaninglessness  
It is suffocating and I worship it  
I am a fool and a sucker for letter fantasy  
A fable I can love  
These untamed wild horses galloping inside these Trojan hearts 
Like that beach that one summer 
This one summer, it is all we get  
Slipping through our fingers like the sands of Ios where Homer lay in dust 
The mares lay screaming  
Every sunrise apocalyptic. 

6 

Even if I were to clasp my arms around this great tree of life, molten oak  
Embracing all the tragic people of this earth  
It would not heal a thing  
This cracked shield split like the log 
Does loneliness carry some kind of prodigious truth? 
Imagine New York once as an island  
Before it became a prison of concrete, steal, and anguish 
The hum of human life  
So here is to having a conversation with God 
Not as a victim to His crime spree seeking understanding  
But rather His equal  
Are these words of grace or rebellion?  
To steal the crown and swallow its thorns 
A runaway splitting time between the town of Diogenes and forest of Rousseau.