The Entity I Saw in the Woods at Sacandaga

Next time you see me, call me by my true name

Like the entity I saw in the woods at Sacandaga.

Draw the tears from my eyes like syringe sunsets.

Toss the shards of my bastard self into the river and watch them float

Down to where the sun and rocks form a pinprick in space.

Bless the fish that nibble my fingers and blow kisses wrapped in bubbles.

Don’t mistake halos for hatred. Undo old regrets with lasers

Pointed in the eyes of babies whose hands reach across time,

To grasp your heart and crumple it like a dead leaf.

Let the Stone Man’s voice shred your eardrums like paper.

Allow the Methodical One to diagram the fact that Lust is king

And remind you that continuity will someday end.

All things will return to the river, and the river will boil under the sun.

The sun will swell like a grape left too long on the vine

And the vine will fragment into motes too small for fish to taste.

When all things assimilate, the Bell will signal feasting and sleep.

Soup will cool uneaten, and beards will be strewn with crumbs.

Eulogies will pound nails into rickety wood.

Mausoleums will become the things they were built to enshrine.

When that time comes, I will be a dime on someone’s eyes.

A stranger I wouldn’t have been able to perceive

Without the knowledge that crying is a crime

Only to those whose hearts have been stowed

In the baggage compartment of the last flight out of Laredo.


Shedding a Tear for Decoherence

Dark was the night you said to me

The river will flow forever

Into open heart surgery

Fitted with a paper gown and some marshmallows

To tape the wound against you.

Bloody specks dot your sky

And white lights blaze for all time.

Mechanical candles sever arteries

And fashion brass instruments

Through which the winds of life shall blow

Away the house of the fourth pig

Stewing in stool and pickled barkeeps:

A damaged soul with obsidian spikes

Jutting from his morning in which we dye

The mouths of crows and crosses blue.

Stand with Ted as he beams you up

And cup the pillar of light in your hands.

Shed a tear for decoherence

Flying free beyond mountain ranges

Bent over backwards for firecrackers.

Memories From a Lifetime Down the Beach

The flow of words cradles my mind

While a handful of broken rhymes drifts downstream.

Memories of my mother from a lifetime down the beach

Erode the foundation of the sand castle I stand beneath.

Its shade soothes my skin, and a soft towel

Caresses my face like the smell of the lint trap

On a winter day long ago, playing GoldenEye in the snow.

A dog stared at me that day: her eyes seemed to communicate

Affection and understanding…something I wasn’t aware

That animals possessed. As it turns out, non-human persons are made

Of nothing but empathy and benevolence.

Perhaps a solution to the violence of our stalkers and killers

Is to animalize their all-too human capacity

For hurting the people whose love they steal

Without any intention of giving back.

Truth Boneless in Misery’s Corner Store

Ecclesiastical portico pantomime will

Tingle the step, shrill in its malice

Diamond the eagle wraparound the way

Forests drained of galaxies sent to the state

Meant for you the pickle ball owl

Gone are streets wound in testicle pictures

Aliens a grateful bunch of grapes born anew

Gallantry severed wing domination through the mail

Born headless in a sour kingdom

Truth boneless in misery’s corner store

Stand Christ the wicker basket shoe

Polish sausage pouring out of a porn star’s mouth

Sandwich vagina heat death Stephen Hawking’s front porch

Time aches singlets sunward days eaten with salt

Turmeric dances willingly wolf all

Craze and refurbish stand and wait for tackle the camera

Store bought peace nugget stain the wiggling heathen

Too stately for Febreeze and algorithms wiped clean

Stupidity foreclosed singling the candle liberated

Clandestine intimacy waters two faithful gardens alone

Corn the ideologue next door creatures wash babes

Honed skull tepid a knight the dingy waters taste silly

Never give a man a trap door whack for the kringle oblated

Step into the Cornish sun daze and white the king’s maze

Fear the inkling Ted Nugent porpoise microwave furl dialogue

Test nine out of ten head crabs storming along the dawn

Plates state crane barf bag touching only the self

Two thousands doves my health and a batch of chins

Torn facts books and creators willingly eat sand

Lamb taste bud names go south for lame ducks

And the island dwells sickly in needle poke down home

A carb sandwich illegal in its downward doorstep

So much for the fishing going home eating pork bun lies

Wayside adventure suicide over it like testicle fires

Grain soaked liquor cabinet sister marshmallow vodka tree

Vomit pain edible eviction dinosaur taco lonesome

Face killings stretched so far that hat you’re wearing welcomes

Weddell seals groan patches of grass fought valiant missile tomb

When the killer staples his face to the moon, you know the dig

Wax dummy spandex heart attack soaring scammers blight

Sensations melt the soon-to-be underneath like light in piss jars

Stacked cereal box corn tangled licking nightly urine bath bomb

Arnold Palmer whipping coastal water broken binky in and around

We never understood why the damage hated us so

We only nibble just a little cracker before the campfire retreats

Christened a pool light the waterfront gone and eyes blinking and happy

Return of the Rhyme (drugs are bad?)

If drugs are bad, then why am I on them?

Drugs make us sad enough to take out our anger on a nation and bomb them.

Drugs will prevent the circle from being completed.

Has the rhyming of mine and the universe’s poetry returned

Because the innovative parts of our perceptions have been defeated?

Or has our circuitry been intentionally tangled

So that we can see things from a different angle?

You can cut away half of a man’s brain

And five years later, he’ll regain his ability to think.

Those who aren’t dead will always have a chance

To inject beauty into the world despite their circumstance.

Thinking is overrated, so why not enjoy a video game?

Let shame melt away, and happiness blaze like a candle flame.


80 mg. of Geodon Packed Into My Tiny, Little Head (might as well take downers.)

Cancer clinging stars pinching butt sex horny the gas casket heats the ting like pizza on ceiling roast the tourmaline for dime savage underachieve ovary artichoke forest tampon claptrap ding dong dive into the dickless crab nebula scene tickling time in its little penis for sasquatch hates fagioli sausage trans morning inspiration dime a dozen for noon the gaping hog splatter helmet-wearing the old porridge master vacancy trained attack dime dogs storm drained and weather appropriate tackle box ice opening cream vassal tape around time’s scream hailing taxicab dormancy in tree-like fashion womb dollar crate the steadfast wall staying with her was teleological in its reason choking corn down the stairs faster than trains wax and beat stamp the gilded aura nailed psycho cross gone too far pissing match specimen down normal veins stork the cold rain harangue the tick fortune 500 epididimus foretold stamp the gallows diamond razor rain stacked black mandoline strafe rail gun tying shoes, hurting the other corpse of moon dialing 911 rating Joe Robbins in his crying eye KidsPeach finger bit negligent horse race track the VHS store cum sausage trailing dildo sky hate and orange knight west of Eve’s throat a dancing syringe weaponized killing for the only way up is through, and throughout your life you only silenced the dingo for a second before its heart split the galleon glad back and trickled up the Reagan Pole like Michelangelo painting the ceiling trafficking drugs out his asshole force fed a rainbow generation squirted basketball child out of forced rain water down sick social heat, a blade to the throat of Hillary Rodham Clit Licker stampede elegant in its diverse ways of torturing the cataclysm of Teddy Bear Mountain understanding the diligence of eating is a way through the vagina Andaman Island waits for nil the time comes when sutures burst and Little Critter finds a carrot in his pocket like so many uneaten radishes on sale for a dollar at the Aveh marketplace wires strung across the main drag electrocute your yearning for alien pixels rocket the tolling bell a ways down sewers grateful for your swimming beast in caverns aflame with youth and promise, a belt for your hiney whacked like mole stewardesses talking to you in your dreams as soon as your head slices the fourteenth melon like someone’s had a day batting yarn for Hell’s dinner plate far enough away the corn will like itself only when the Rainbow Dash knight thyme dinner bell has tolled and stolen the only thing you had left.

Comment Owl (cum towel)

Coarse spider bloom waffle tree crane the moon spilling botany twice reformed a malicious hunk of detritus spilling tombs scorching flame tangled by the kiwi rain in bleeding marsh factorials by one percent of having nothing eating the viral son swing the blade like North Face has Ugg’d the wasteland of post-teenage coitus undulating black forest the nail-driver’s con artist game forsake tickled hostility cream the bagel wall fortress hangman’s rope dilated ovary penis game licking genealogical marbles taint the back pangs hanging diving board gloom game doom the plain forest spectacle making amends to strict washings well in advance of Dale Trim and his army boot sanctification storm trooper ritual wasted in Kingfisher crime tree habitat for helping the dishwasher see the lamb in the storm reaping ticks and snozzberries for spite that might ignite tangible feelings fresh and holed up beneath the earth in dildo wallpaper spoiled like Elizabeth Gaskell’s Tampax nightmare strong the centipede hurts itself trying to camp up and over willy-nilly sentries spying torque and taco-flavored the dingus elates nonagenarian practice the crack back around the willow and tape Sunn for pocket exposure the seed willingly falls to dead rose crabs heavy in their diligence waking suns slamming sharks for factory-sealed and obligingly so the drill master creates his stomach again for teen dreams smeared labia encroach the corpse of daytime tingling for Hanson and Chris Farley’s washcloths bated breath the hoax is real and Ian Morse can hurt no one anymore dregs of tourmaline can’t open letters with or without and sticking fact crows the steak wheel nickel and crate the tackle box open around and around like Jesus and his Mario slippers porridge for English breakfast sty the camels again for time is a gash in the cosmos androids liking things on Facebook for teen suicide waxes poetic the dime crammed hearty soup kitchen nightmare is over thank God for our breadbox made butter the diligent dime force congratulations Shinji Ikari over moons crapped stand alone the jet lag taser elicits the king fish again like Nile River down home cooking steed waiting for Moses and cling wrap stamp the crane to all and none for Oliver Twist dying alone in a piece of hello to all the gays for shrimp sausage the night has come at last and budding turns what the ungod will cram school not sure what kind of baggage can usher the golden knob around and around, for that is what they want.




























Keep scrolling.
























Almost there…
























Bet you’re drooling now ;p
























You’d better be…
























These grils have been waiting a long time to have their juices sucked out…especially by YOU…you handsome, hungry stud ❤








































And here we are: NUDE GRILS as promised!!!

live nude grils

(If I made any typos in this post, my apologies. My fingers ain’t what they used to be…if you know what I mean 😉

400 Words of Pure, Unadulterated Joy

Pickle my batter butter Eden café night wren holding my sickle fortuitous pain thistle whacked in the bum binary star torture cream said the penis wendigo Nordic fortress heat dingo holy land camped by the chasm eating tingle berry torn from the hole nothing can’t beat the rain tales of death certificates stomped Fort Monus basement tickle rainbow seed crane house potted plants come alive in an office building across the street from the pub where Kevin Bacon ate sausage with Jesus and his army of sentient sandals and crying Gerard Way’s flame beacon singed my arm hairs sauce the kingfisher place with another wound totaling car said the tick tock heart beating test water the flower handle storm the drain and unlock the Frozen Flame West of hearsay dune fortress Trump Tower tampon receptacle kept away like dust moat picnic basket bear honey Jar-Jar Binks rest in placated tin drop down and suck the bloated tick muscle cramp store the fuzz in undergrowth in sheet metal rack tanged and heated up micro blaze corner the staining wreck strapped bootless the stink eye winks the flexing anal Beadnells coating stinky door socks poking fun faddish nickel and dime crate storage house around the drowning guinea pig butt store the coke stool in hope for the future crying itself to sleep on the doorstep of an abortion clinic in Alabama where Georgia fucked its sister and Donalded all over the American fuckboy in the titty house next to Calcutta man and his oversized genital sorcery for a mushroom pulled standalone moviefilm can’t help itself when shrimp is on the buffet table Jimmy Carter will die today and Simpson’s fort Nile river Cait Sith will blame it on Jorge my best college drinking buddy bear downhill skiing makes the cold wind hesitation urinate the crinkle pick my face up off the sidewalk and make the tape around myself like always before and after you wipe the disc shop clean bucket for sales hated on diamond Darrel panel wanel kickstarter farting happy hippo torture piss nug for time is a plaque stone digging Diglett in Daggett’s taco Beaver fourth wall killing tangible knife wicker basket tamed friend stolen king owl stone sausage the crepe shop opens the killing bear to wait another year for the cone to stone the moon and correlate stingy heads dormant blanket head waste tick stem pot now horse.

414 Words to Celebrate Friday

Time collapses the fourth wall bearing tuna peanut Christ on a spoon wallop my favorite sorceress in cheese dildo blanket take a piece of pie and place it on the counter for grandma with the teeth that freeze the serotonin muscles in your thighs like booze-saturated tingling sensations of nighttime glow worms secreting the universe in dollops of marshmallow chastity waiting for a boat that will never come a sliced tomato sutured to Friday night painful in its austerity pigeonholed theybies buttoned and packed in crystal lattice afraid of dark care bear haircuts stingy old misers batting tooth picks away from their golden noodles singing harmony in suns canceling the radio for all the seagull children on Phobos while Deimos eats tuna melts naked under his brother’s inside-out cock firing squads to the heathen brain standard the crux of my argument fallen from windows electing Sid Myers’ tampon woman hole born flesh and big brick wall crawling rather than a fallen cycle of tubes ululating bourbon in old time factory farming table hoppers bell bottom wrangling tomb storage upstairs from the baby genius whose brain is a tumor on a corn cob cobbled with an entity to which no spoon can be driven to insert weaponized Africa like the table slalom race 1994 solidified in total memory be Chris Kringle and his camp razor stymied for fly eyes gouging funds walrus-like in tickling themselves shame and boar tusks quake diligent Eden pans handling the cockroach devil forest why the killing floor melts to shame and beaks knot rot the galvanization of chinchilla heartache separate yourself from titty willow pushpin dig bugging needle throttling the dark corners like centers of almond brown, nails driven spikes heaved whoring big stinger rotate spiral evisceration like shawarma in a boll weevil casket for Palestine’s pogo stick tried to be a tulip and now it is a bacon soda gift store East Aurora fiasco buying happiness with a 22 dollar bill Buffalo rising into the skies of the dome surface convex to this world like sister’s memories molded by hands too large to conceive making the mill house a mole mounting a Diglett like it always should have in tickle trees when forests renege on promises they don’t own, never owned, never dreamed of sliding the butter knife through the bottom of the door to poke the porcupine when it’s having a bad day and you can think of nothing better to do than torture the poor little bugger.