running is life,it helps me stay sane(and all the other banal thingspeople say about going for a jog),but one thing i do love about itis the peace that comes fromknowing i will never be stalkedalong a tree shaded path until,fighting for my life,i am gunned downby my neighbors. help dismantle white supremacy in our communities: … Continue reading run forever
Category: poetry
protecting yourself is your right,by god, so claim it.buy a gun and learn to shoot,get a license, follow rules.and keep it clean and keep it closecause you never knowwhen the bad men will bust inand blast your lovely dead."somebody kicked in the door and shot my girlfriend!" you'll cryand no one will hearover the noise … Continue reading home invasion
it must be awful knowing you're gonna die.your breath slips out and doesn't return.you panic and your thoughts tumble out:your children, your mother.and the words pour out,shallow and creaky,as his knee holds firm on your neck.and the blood spills out andmixes there in the streetwith the dirt and the gravel.
i too am nathan phillips and i've seen this grinning boy. his face has floated before mine like a helium balloon once or twice in my life. it's harmless enough, his face alone, until you're 12 and your glasses are too big because they're all your parents can afford. the toothless smile itself is not … Continue reading nathan phillips
i felt the sand of another beach peppering my hair. i felt the salt sea wind crest like promise in the wings. the sight of moon and stars and light dripped from midnight limbs to stretch across the top of sea, broken by the waves and foam. i heard a voice of sorrow then, calling … Continue reading i felt the sand of another beach
i'm like the moth; vellum wings whispered into existence, forged and firm by the flame, cooled in the grey-black river of night. i'm like the moth... there's midnight underneath my wings and around: streams of charcoal ribbon ends undone. there's midnight on my heart, cooled in the grey-black river. candle wears the flame on her … Continue reading the heraclitus matching candle set
we are vultures on a track, grounded gargoyles oblivious to passing cars, waiting for a train.
Nicolas Gonzales 