They all seem to be one, and at each other. I keep moving between one and the other one, shifting, always shifting. The light is the same, it just...I find my mind in one sometimes and my body in the other...
Fiction
Fictitious stories, essays, books, fiction
Poem: Poets Hospital
There's a hospital for poets...
DIARY OF A DEAD MAN — Chapter 2
Harley is simple man, he likes, rather, he wants his life to be that simple. No complexities, no unnecessary frills to eat away at the edges of that quiet simmering and easy pleasure. His life, that has become habit; admirable habits. No Fuss...
DIARY OF A DEAD MAN — Chapter 1
There's a hole in sun,
and all that was given will fall back there someday.
The life we live here is measured it seems, by the sins from some past life.
The closer you get to the end,
the more you remember from the very beginning, and...just before it.
It takes a lifetime to scratch away that veil of forgetting...
WHAT NEXT…
Eight-carbon molecules in rivers of waste, and the sun in a sack cloth hauls itself up again into the sky. And looks down in disgust at what was…a good idea.
These mayfly lives, passing through and piling up, one upon the other as sediments on the basement of this world. Built up in that wake of seconds upon seconds. Relent.
Red cushion for a place to sit, amidst rancor. Nihilism for a heart, and reluctance. And crazed mystics still keep pushing shopping carts up hills of abuse...
YELLOW FISH
I was painting ten paintings the other day. In the music studio and lost an idea among a pile of dead poems sitting on a shelf,
it was a good idea!
It was something about the sound a bird makes after a terrible storm;
for the world is stilled and made over completely in that single solitary second.
This is not the only world…by far...
don't worry you can change this later 
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