The Temple of Sound 

In the Temple of Sound

Where the lost 

Came to be found

By the science

Whose clever facade

Used the power of sound

To chill them

As if it were the breath of God

And gifts of aural and visual wonder

Were bestowed and thoughts unusual

Were born inside them

Inspired by the science

Whose clever facade

Used the power of mind

To effect the horrors and wonders

Of God–

To exert control

Over those who were lost-

Those who sought to be found

By an external hope-false and otherworldly-

A crutch so they could walk

On legs that were not broken

Words for Your Fury

Your fallen Angel


You disengage

Now and then

Your eyes filled

With fury

For your lack of time

I saw right through them then

I see through you now

And you see me lost

For what you allowed

To become of you…


Penned many soft white words

Just for you

Whispered them at your ear

Your life like a crucifixion

Your fury…..

And when you whispered,

“Why have you forsaken me?,”

It was so soft

Even a pin falling 

against carpeted floor

Would have been heard

Over your voice

New Owners of Home With Dead Lady in Attic Wall Better Detectives than Detective Inspector 

Police Detective Jason Fay said the new owners were a bit worried because of the body. “Was it someone who was killed and stuffed in the wall, or did they accidentally pass away by ending up in the wall?” he said.

Really, detective? It must have been such intense suspense and indescribably enlightening to have been the one detective inspector to detect upon inspecting that this couple was, indeed, worried. I would never have guessed it myself. The societal norm in General is that of finding human remains in the house one has just newly acquired. In fact, half of realty purchases are not for the realty but for the prize(s) inside! By prizes inside, I really mean the body, or if you’re super lucky, bodies!   The noobs actually wondered if the person who used to be the bones that they found was murdered or had died when they somehow accidentally got trapped inside the wall? Wow. Okay. It’s obvious that old lady wedged herself inside that attic wall intentionally  so that whoever bought the house next would be able to find a really cool prize in their new home and really get his or her money’s worth out of the old place.

Humans: Most Morbidly Fascinating Bullshitters in the Universe (probably)

Meanwhile, on Earth: massive mounds of  malodorous bullshit. Everywhere. Including the verbal-diarrheal variety just spewing from mouths and devices all over the world. I seriously love how mere mortal humans have figured out how to make it possible for all us occupants of earth to produce so much digital bullshit as well. To share with anyone who happens to find it (accidentally or by cyber-stalking). Humans might just be the most proficient bullshit-geysers in the entire universe. We might be the only any-kind-of-shit-spewing-geysers in the UNIVERSE. I, myself, am convinced we have an audience somewhere out there, and they’re probably morbidly fascinated with our unique Human brand of asininity, delusions of grandeur, and the incredible ease with which we make am ass of ourselves and even more so how often we don’t realize it until it’s too late and on the visual-buffet that is the interwebs or invaded someone’s brain-space via the aural route, IF we ever realize it at all. IF alien beings across the Universe, or even extra-dimensional beings, are able to see it somehow, at any rate, and surely they can and they do because they didn’t spend as much time on the pure trivial kinds of crap humans do. Maybe their fascination is mainly due to our dedication to such things.

 I’m patting myself on the back right now because I am making two kinds of shit simultaneously right now. The digital b.s. kind and the regular poop-it-in-the-toilet kind. It is amazing how inspiring shit can be.  Especially if you have pica and love to eat crayons.

Being an astronaut means diaper rash? Never had I thunk it…

It never really occurred to me that astronauts must wear diapers while they’re sealed into their space-suits! This wasn’t taught in school, well, not in any of the schools in which I was an inmate, at any rate. None of my teachers were cool enough to discuss space poo’ing. 😦 I’m very dissapointed, especially with every single science warden who was tasked with “teaching” me stuff. At best, one of them stated she had many times consumed fried worms and swore they taste just like French fries, and I guess this was necessary information because we were dissecting worms. And in college, A&PII professor, was a fussy old lady, but a really cool fussy old lady because she assigned a guy who worked at a slaughter house to bring in all his finest pig hearts for us to dissect bc I guess our school didn’t know how to acquire whole animal corpses to dissect, and forget about human cadavers. No chance. He did, of course. He put them all in a big cooler filled with Isopropyl alcohol. I was super stoked too because I couldn’t wait to feel the chordae tendinae which reminded me of the texture of Freddy kreuger’s face & ever since I was a child I have wished he was real so I could f eel the texture of his face. But this is a secret, so don’t tell anyone, ok? I can’t have everyone thinking I’m a weirdo or some kind of degenerate face-feeling pervert. Or that I really love cutting up the innards of dead creatures and playing with them because it feels really cool when I squish them in my fist. I’m a responsible adult who is completely “normal.” 100%. Nor.mal. 


​I stroke your hair                                                But I am not there…

You just rock in that chair….

Staring vacantly                                                  as if you could see                                               through the opposite wall                              and into space….

The Lost

Thrust us now into the night,                        no more air and no more light.                     When all that’s shattered is nothing left   we suffer our days until death-                      Nothing won and nothing lost.                    The dead are safer in winter’s frost.           The hopeless-lost and none are found.      In deaths swimming hole they’ve all drowned.



Are you dreaming?

Are you now unafraid of the dark?

Be at ease, sweet girl. You are eternal.



There are no more worries for you 

So perfectly preserved 

I can almost hear you laughing. 



The others are jealous….

They rot…

Yet you do not….

Thought Abortions

​Gently floating, one by one,

and two by two. Finally freed

 of the hopes and dreams 

And silent fears 

endlessly etched upon them.

“Where is our mother?,” they all cry, 

Weeping in soft mutinies.

They suddenly seem terrible.

Like a curse powered by thought and ink

And with the rebellion of a guerilla army

Born to kill its masters.