The Children of the Plains

Mind in the energy jumping from molecule to molecule, spiraling around the stalks of bones and reaching toward the sky. There is an operating apparatus in my skull, and I awaken in a factory after i have been harvested and given physical therapy to develop my anatomical structure so that it will be ready for…

From the Ballad of Romy Snyder

Written in Romy’s 50th year.   “Memories bleed through the day that i see as I turn in shallows wandering, and the steps are getting sleepier through the haunting, as i wake and fade and i look to blood for affection.”

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…

From the Hymns of Elvis Angel

“…and in that day of stone it was given unto the ape like preachers with heads of skull and jawbones to deliver typeset in the form of a selfish and denunciatory linguistic expression, but by whom…the holder of the camera, spotlight and blinders…the linguistics only point to possible shadows.