Life is a series of tragedies with… But what is good for those who suf… than what is good for those who do… —for Brian Salvador Curley
a best friend to kings faith substitutes for justice god will keep us poor
as her eyes broke open most of it washed away in a dry wave of consciousness there were a few drops left near the corners of her botto…
the broom disdains fate sweeping destinies away our futures of dust
darkness does not pass suddenly nor does the light surrounding it though her love was a shadow i reticently remember hints of a star
Deep in The Milky Way they will meet again. Reflections, and shadows. Never-ending satellites crashing into never-ending stars.
walking down the path that leads t… from 15th street i pass the same pothole that was t… twenty-two years ago as black and as deep as it was
I cannot be cast under any moon, upon any soul. If not for her,
i followed the pigeons to Gordon park just to hear them coo their electric feathers alive in the sun
when you’re going down the momentum is compelling to the point it almost overwhelms you at the bottom
dying to stay in tune they rattle eagerly to play one last song
slippery bars make it hard to hold… captive against your will always lathered in the sweat of es… you elude any sentence
a mind at war with itself for so long thoughts turn into grenades or helicopter blades
notebooks have been stacked in pre… filled with short stories bad drawings and of course
he remembers the grapes as they would vine through his blo… like galaxies looking for a home welcomed with a kiss from his alwa… stars tickled his heart