in a world of proctologists all is ass-backwards go analyze that Chagall 2020
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Another's sadness makes me so sad Chagall 2020
how fluidly the flow shifts one day a single mamba dances before there was hyphen-nineteen anything whirlybirds, how easily mandalas fold fingers are supplicants to the mind and heart and should only do good be good, chew nice give Mother Gaia a hug, rub her back old Mackey is back in town... Jenny Diver, whoa, Sukey Tawdry Chagall 2020
In this stark starlight beneath brightly shone moonbeams sing we nightingales Chagall 2020
words that inspire instill in us inspiration - hope... grow soft petals one-by-one in beautiful fractals we compose only to unravel just the same we cling to notions otherwise: a reared head I yearn for earnest lopsided grins, even though I have never seen one have I been alone all along up and down this trail it's never been more dusty than now Chagall 2020
At times, the stark life will take your breath away Chagall 2020
I feel like a dying match that rotates through space, bends and contorts to consume the remainder of its own flame: to perpetuate the light the darkness for now awaits just a moment longer... Chagall 2020
Today I am sporting heavier sleeves on which I shall wear my heart Chagall 2020
Stoned, not impaired
Chagall 2020
This morning I share a small bowl of very fine cannabis with a praying mantis I find clung to my porch screen She there on the outside, I face her soft underbelly, through the mesh I stroke her legs and arms, antennae, and admire that swivel-head so human I blow wafts of smoke her way, tiny shotguns, imagining her sharp inhales, filling her receptors, until she is giddy there in the pink sun rising, raising her prayers up She swivels her head to me and I swear I hear Got any cookies? Chagall 2020
Alphabet City 