Member since December 7, 2016 | 2,029 Readings |
Cincinnati, Ohio native - They say journalism is dying and poetry’s already dead. I suppose that makes me a resurrector.
The Blue-Silver Being
I am a flat, graphite sketch / on a interdimensional being’s / drafting table. // I look to my right and left / and the being is shouting / at…
Closure before the door was opened
I am nothing. / Nothing. // My purpose is ----. / It’s rich and red. / My purpose is bleed. // Your whole job / is to watch while I do it. /…
Contain, / Contain / You-see-through-glass / Bring the water to my lips again // The molecules are more focused in the glass / Than they are in…
It’s a different hustle in the winter
Sunset - / the little ghetto market, / westside parkway // / An early start / Set up shop so to speak / Greet more folks than the mayor // …
50 Questions to Ask God this Holiday Season
Hows come we can’t see you? / How many bulbs have broken when idiots put up Christmas lights? / Why don’t people use their fucking turn signal? …
I don’t like to kill / Even the small things / Even the littlest ones / I feel it too hard / I stand over them in their death / And whisper about…
In the garden of life
In the garden of life, / with its flowers and wonders aplenty - / Some days you just pull out weeds.
When all the black mirrors light up
My eyes are polyamorous, lingering and twisting, / playing tricks on my Sunday School heart / They feed my brain the food it wants but doesn’t need…
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Subscribed by Tyler Strittmatter
I exist / in the hollowed-out form / of human decency - where government / should be. // So close am I / to a poet / that I can creep inside / a…
I want to be released / from memory, // like a bird / in the trees, // objectified, like a dot / on the concrete, // ossified, like a fossil, then…
The Way the Rose Bush Flutters
And I’ve arrived / here, / like mountains / stumbling, / the sky / crumpled, / then flattened // into ramblings / worth saving. // Beat boxing /…
The News of the Day
It’s about controlling time, / and not - // blowing down Buffalo Yard Rd., / tap tap // of the mind, / beeches hustling // in the long summer’s…
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