The idea is to oppose your masters, not because of the idea of being an opposition alone, but because of knowing what could be bettered. I. Babel Floating with the common asterisks, risking the future by ignoring those who dove into avant-pop and the grin and gripe. The murder descended upon her holy lid. Their beaks as dirty as the ground above… Ten granular years to turn myself into something that appeases a palette. Bodied and doling, painfully unrevisitable… Come! Come, and coddle your heroes! In the place that knows no drought, we'd have to swim rising! But yes, come to think of it ...Read more

Hot is my tongue by the summer, and so are the shoulders of my lover. (Soulful, he is to me– the man not naked as the sun. Lo! See, thee interrupts the arcane. Magic Man!) I remember meeting his never-lonely fire when the world was a blur, And stayed, he did, until the dirt made sense. (Finally, finally, somebody flaming enough to stay!) I am, then, parched. Patched, I ask– Is there something around other than the mayhem? Ain't the liking grand when, with the heart, it's always escalating? My pastel-loving baby, pink, hatches me just by the way he smiles from the grotto. I pray for ...Read more

Gospel of Tempers 2:1 – The Satelliting Thoughts of January 6, 2019 The bad edits of me are the ones that are sticking. My students, my bees, please think and never blindly romanticize. I need my students and my bees to be happy. I need you all To be not like me. Eventually, eventually We're all to discover that even the undiscovered flower doesn't need the validations. Even the wildest of us doesn't need the copouts and pascals and parabolas; And flicks and films and drugs; and occassionalities and alkanes and prelights; And the suffering. O', the suffering is an endless thing, it s ...Read more