Again with this…I insist on keeping my own fucking facts together and re-editing myself until the cows die of starvation…did I tell that story…or here’s this…I’m penning my bio but forgot to write about the time I DIED…just let it ramble out like water and it will…then meander back…let it be an old friend…friend…



Oh you know how they do
the vultures
they scratch, claw
screetch, tear
these carrion demons

but vultures eat live things too
they feed
and roil
In your flesh
fetid now

it hurt but they were many
it happened so fast
they ate your eyes
on to your lips
finally your tongue and you were silent

eventually they are covered
in your slimy, stinking guts
but they don’t stop
they feast and feast and feast
until they are landlocked
and covered in their own vomit


I posted this cool picture of a rollercoaster and it gets this ridiculous number of views everyday for maybe a month and I’m perplexed at the reblogs and such it’s not poignant or touching or smart or sexy. I didn’t really know how to see the exact number I just know it’s always giving me alerts.

So I asked my fourteen year old how to see and she showed me. Then I asked her how many followers she had.

I told her how many I had on WordPress.  What my goal was in the end.  I need to finish my book!..

Then she said she looked at it like her followers were just kind of behind her clapping all day. Isn’t that so sweet?

Then I said I didn’t understand someone who cuts a pancake into yin yang and  they garner a 168,000 views. I guess I’m too smart. Now I sound vain. She’s an incredible artist but mostly she watches fandoms.

That’s ok because it’s proof she’s still a teenager but we can dish of Dante and Beethoven.

Are you clapping?


The rain falls
on my face
you kiss my forehead
your hands on me
our bodies close
it is hot and sticky
I feel you breathe
we touch
the rain falls
you kiss my bottom lip
you take me in and linger
I open my eyes
I see you
looking into me
we smile
it’s perfect