9Wave

Salvador Dalí, Untitled (Soft Monster in Angelic Landscape), 1977 & the day came when we were forced to feast on the entrails of a static balloon, the sky was any color we liked & the moon was fitted (with maniacal precision) by the sap of an unfiltered lemon dream (nothing beats the sweetness of a [...]

Sandman Express VII

all that’s left at the end of this story’s a struggle, a penniless offering from the scantest corners of a forest, the scent of a long-forgotten tear like melted yellow perfume and a snap of the fingers that sent up a parachute like a tornado of fried tumble weeds, a pocketful of gleaming teeth strung [...]

Sandman Express VI

Read more of the Sandman Express poems. except when he left it mattered that someone had stolen the barrel and plucked out the wood like a house of broken marionettes it was a scene that played out like a two-cent fiddle, a rhyme that never rounded the bend, an unholy landslide that broke through a [...]

Sandman Express V

Read more of the Sandman Express poems. the price, in the beginning, was a simple necktie with a knot like a half-eaten moon, a vase of flowers and the dust from a magic carpet that had sailed to all seven setting suns or so said that wiry old mystic as we shotgunned along on his [...]

Sandman Express IV

Read Sandman Express, Parts I, II, and III. i never imagined it would all disappear this way, a grove of floating oranges and sapphire giraffes, an acre of magic grass that shone like an eyeful of diamonds out the busted windows of the Sandman, that harbinger of technicolor dreams, while the old hippie wizard and [...]

Lo Dive

it was never more important to remember the rose, the way it crimped in her hair like an afterthought pruned with the blade of a cruel shoulder like a little neglected wing or a misshapen song unless my eyes were lying the instant i saw her perched on the fingertip of the morning like a [...]

Reluctant Memory

in its simplest form, the mouth was a giant puzzle piece a horizontal pickaxe that severed the sun from the whitewashed fields a cleft in the skull of a crystallized fantasy, a simple decoration, really, a wrinkle in the underbelly of a cloud where the smoke filled with mirrors and for the first time, i [...]