When blackbird sings a song for him
from snowy perch all crisp and trim...

Psychosis erodes my fragile rest,
Whilst demons vomit their evil finesse...

I awake and sense
a warm wetness down below...

Ants crawl over fretting
newts that writhe and twist like...

These scraping nails
Inside my chalkboard mind will...

If love upon a ball of twine flew high,
A big balloon of red for all to see...

Climbing down a chimney
His bulging sack got caught...

addiction became
prison where cancer would free...

* * *
shyness left, replaced...

Potential arcs inside locked gates
In one small palm a seed awaits...

you will never know
of pain until you unearth...

Things that
are...