From the Ballads Of Romy Snyder

Now I can see my portrait in a corner, in the dust and mother’s voice from her fortress is withering with rust time can’t steal her features as we rolled our car down the hill arms pressed forward and her head snaps back froze in a pose that could never look back tazed and tethered,…

From the Hymns of Elvis Angel

the experience, the voice of the third eye… peel away the fetter blow away the tether pump and turn forever in her eye I am born A mirage, a feint the curse of a blind saint patron of three generations Who’s freezing, cracking haunted the eye of birth and still breaking up and wanting this…

Scratch Notes From the Hymns of Elvis Angel

i’ve found you, silhouette, bent, shrunken shriveled but still, you never weave or bleed or feel regret never seem to bend or wiggle Out in the air together in the breeze sad songs just lap and tickle smudges and blurs bleed and twinkle i’ll give, you burn a little a little feed to feel a…