

Sonnets and MothsThe moth darts back, afraid of getting burnt By this haunted attic’s only candle Where, unknown and alone, a true love daren’t Open up for fear of sparking trouble. Folded in a drawer, locked tight in a chest A stiff-lipped hag with the key in her hand, “Keep the gin from the flame at every cost”: Eyes from words that’d beat her heart to end.Sonnets and Moths
When that day comes, the most powerful verse, Still locked-up tight like that forgotten son
Who lived on lollipops, who died of thirst
And in an empty kitchen first cried ‘Mum?’ Echoes how pointless love has always been &nb


Chocolate Covered RodentsMy momma always said, “Life’s like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.” and I always used to say, “Momma, what was life like before they put chocolate in boxes?”Chocolate Covered Rodents
About that time there was this little girl. In a strawberry cream square she found the skull of a rat. It must have snuck through the clockwork of that factory,
the one up on the edge of town
where the squatters get high now.
Her neighbours said that she cried all night for weeks on end. They say that’s what drove her mother out. And her teacher


ThisThis exists On cockleshells and mint julips This runs madly in the opposite direction And tiptoes through the tulipsThis
Pretty maids dance
Tra la la la tra la la, and prance Through mazes unwinding
Binding themselves to the walls
And all the while the rain still falls.
This exists where others dare not to tread, And where shepherds gather their flocks To silently eat their cold hard bread. And locks upon their faces hold.
But damn me to hell if I be so bold.
The Exit

the debts of John-Lisathe debts of John-Lisa
We are the debts of John-Lisa. Enter past mailboxes nailed shut or just ignored. Step by oil marks staining the sidewalk in slick tailpipe drips, framed by rails in dead-brain paint. Scrape your shoe on our welcome, cheque your tricks at the door.
Sit on our upholstered yawn-chair, eat our boring bread (coated in cold butter).
Miss, judge these two-eye-toasts paid by His truly. Thanks.
It was stale and sharp, the talking, and each left scars on too-old wounds. Excuse


Home for ChristmasHome for ChristmasHome for Christmas
They come as cavalry and infantry, always adorned with love letters eyes of forlorn girls, distant echoes of home litter breast pockets with clichés “Home for Christmas”.
Archers evolve Armalites for arrows laser designators for lancers helibourne assaults replacing the charge of tired hooves, eventually they cease.
Shaking hands pour mourning tea and for a few minutes canteens become content. Havoc and mayhem wrestle in soot and dirt filled dreams, the passing years move them on until they come t
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I am the dA mommy - behave.
Suture|OWAT|My Superman
much luck
i'll keep updated
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" all you know about me is what i sold you " - m.j.k
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Well, fuck.
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