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Slumber pursues me doggedly; advances unrequited

I flee from it persistently, ironically in spite of

the fact I’d love nothing more than to feel it’s warm embrace,

release the day, let go of worry, find a quiet place.

There are not enough hours in the days

to navigate this energetic maze

a minefield of ticking time bombs surround you

let down your guard and the enemy will ground you.

Sleep when…

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Talking to myself is easy

Talking to myself is easy

The conversation flowed as expected.

Tit for tat, this for that, no objections.

No topic taboo; religion or politics, and sometimes the meta.

The universe, no; multiverses, what was served for breakfast.

Ultimate freedom of speech. Deliberation, emancipation.

Flying solo leaves little room for error. Or great spaces for terror.

Scant disagreement, and sometimes solitary chaos.

The hermit does…

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(How not to) Open a Restaurant

(How not to) Open a Restaurant

Opening day is just a month away!
That is what they’d say, for eight moon cycles, every fucking day.
Oh, wait! Oops, we are sorry for the delay,
Just keep circling the landing and pray.

Aren’t you excited? We are almost there! Psyche! Keep waiting.
Here have some free queso to calm your nerves we are grating.
Are you stressed from all this runaround? Just a little more prostrating.
Secretly, we…

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Fortress of Zingatude.

When I grow up, I am going to build myself a castle.

With an alligator moat that you will need a boat to pass through.

That’s not all, I’ll have walls a hundred feet tall,

and armed guards who love to wrassle,

part of their job, along with controlling the mobs, is to ensure that

trespassing is worthe the hassle.

The Patio Wards found outdoors can be great for hosting cookouts or a festival,


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Millie and Roger

Millicent was quite intent on securing Roger’s favor.

Roger tried to dodge her though as she was not his flavor.

You see, he’s an ass man, and Millie’s flat land did not garner his appeal.

It would take more in the back of the store, for him to seal the deal.

He also had a preference for bleach blondes, and old Millie was a ginger.

She didn’t care, she dyed her hair; a dedicated impinger.


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The darkness depths of soul

Impossible to know until reached, boundaries are broken and breached.

Walls and intentions crumble, an empty stomach grumbles, the mind state stumbles grasping blindly, hungrily, urgently into the shadowy abyss.

Where has the light gone? Seeking, searching frantically, to feel completely.

Before there was static, visibility nil and foggy, desperately unclear.


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Have you ever felt yourself shutting down?
From a hunger nothing fed.
Insanity, insatiety.
It’s incredible what the body and mind can endure.
Sure starvation.
So certain of perpetuation, smug with existence taken for granted.
The soul is mirrored in the carriage.
When one is broken the other splinters in unity.
Death til they part in impunity.

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If you survive long enough, you may even forget. Every three months, then 6, then maybe once a year. The ABC tests, as my dad would call them. For 51 weeks you just live, go about your business, then the poking and prodding, peeing in cups. Invasion, once again. A reminder of your vulnerability and mortality; an unpleasant reminder of your fight; if the physical scars weren’t enough.
The worst…

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My dream home!