A pair of Cadillac keys in her hand

She would be playing Jazz at this hour
silly girl. Too young.
Much too young
Too young for this quiet witching hour.

She was a wash of a thing-
A waste of time if you ask me.
She was halfway in the grave with-
One foot in a bubble bath and….

A pair of Cadillac keys in her hand




Hello I’m seekingstories

Hello I’m seekingstories and Imma pirate
Not like the from Oceanside kind or pirate
Even though I do have blood in oceanside
Not the gang related kind mind you-
Although I do know a few who’d-
Well never mind that
But I tell you
I cannot handle all these things
Today I rode my bike through Compton
My girls mad at me
Because I don’t care when I die
I’ve died a million times
I’ll die a million more.


The boon of Erebos

The hillside rolled with a subtle incline almost as smooth as a sigh and the figures marched upward.
A yellow sun hung over a blew sky, my
Father and his friends unloaded their gear and set up camp.

“It’s never been this crowded before.” My godfather said.

My father turned and gazed up the gentle- daunting slope. I followed his gaze.

“They must have heard how nice it is this time of year.”

I looked out on the land and watched the procession.

Then without warning I darted into the brush and followed them… From a distance.

I saw them at the top of the hill their hoods off, their languid faces weeping long black tears in bright sunlight. They clutched in their hands bright metal, sharp metal, engraved and grim yet nonetheless beautiful knives. Before I could blink they drove the blades they each clutched deep into their throats and dropped dead in a fantastic array. It was the sign of Erebos. That’s when I realized the shadows held dark things. Wicked nymphs watched me and giggled- the ceremony had been of their design and now the noon of Erebos was bestowed upon them. I said naught- but turned and fled.


My face doesn’t work
It’s melting
My heart won’t beat
It’s sleeping

The heart rests in the cage
Like I’m in trouble
But instead I feel wasted
1030 at night and I’m working

My hands won’t reach
They’re broken

still riding

The spirits sleep together
In petit alcoves
Amongst the city steps
And gutter trails
Leading long
Like paint strokes
Down forsaken alleys
Where spirits dwell like lynx
Pained on cavern walls
Graffiti covered building
The spirits live and dance there
On the walls
Where for some holy wonder-
The art is still riding

Think about us

There’s a guy with calm eyes
That works the robeks over by
Mimi’s and the coffee bean
Near pv
Over off of 190th
Sorta off the 405
And Crenshaw
He’s making like 8
And so I the cook
There the only robeks with good food
The only robeks with breakfast wraps
Their boss is knee deep in debt
His workers deserve better pay
Even I
Working noon duty
Not even a nine to five
Make more cash than this guy
Not by much though
So think about us
When you sip your mocha
Think about us

One by one

Oh the secrets I could spew
If I had the right to
All the pale dark mysteries
Behind a sad set of eyes
And all the baggage their limbs could conjure
But I will not violate confidence
History may as well forget
The tragedies I know
So long as life repairs the damage done
To the owners of each secret
Life by life
One by one

She sets alight

The mist comes of the sea
And bears me up
Over the mountains
Till I see the crater below

The crater below
She beckons
A thousand lost thoughts
In a wave of her hand
a brush of her hair

Her lips like the murmur of wings
Doves outside the attic
The touch of an old wooden sling
A slant in the wink of eye

Silent and touched
Murmuring fog from the sea
The crater below
A dead volcano
She sets alight

Breath of life

The breath of life
And death of day
The steps of night
Trace trails
fade away

The sun falls soft
Soft- into the sea, soft
Like a dove in a dream
The lights turn on
Concrete gleams

The sky turns painted dark
The moon rises red-
A gaunt sliver
Amongst clouds
Over a cool sky

The breath of life
Moves in all these things

Dying is ecstasy

Dying is ecstasy
When you feel the heat
And you start to run

I touch sky
And melt clouds
Till sunset make the colors run

And dying is such ecstasy
On a summer day
In the six o’clock heat
In the month of may

Dying is such ecstasy
I can’t wait to see you
When we get away