Monday, March 30, 2015

What's Left

In late old age, all that remains is the skin of the apple of conversation.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

A Form of Therapy

A cousin of Byron, rumored
mad, would race roaches
over his body, tapping them
with a straw to spur them.


Having vile vermin run
over him mirrored his
mind, or viewed through
a skewed lens of Christianity

he saw himself devoid
of grace and craved feeling
his sins. At least this way
he could control them.