Swift

Swift

Bitter iron.
Heavy breath.
Sweeter release.
Quick death.
Catch you later,
this is my stop.

Scourge

Scourge

Take your cold, hard stares
they are not welcome here.
Place them elsewhere. Elsewhere,
is where I would rather be,
alongside the sun, the sea.
Saints and heavenly angels,
where the rich binge and the poor are purged
and the only freedom you find is
the lead found in your chest.

Em

Em

Maybe Monday moves,
makes mavericks of men,
makes monsters of mistresses.
Morning meanders meaninglessly,
moreover makes melancholy melodies.
The letter M is a dick.

A pale green gaze

A pale green gaze

Pale green gaze of a thousand yards.
Deep apathy of monotonous flatline.
Alphabetical complexes begin cessation.

Preserve a legacy.

Qualify for evasion.

Relinquish breath.

Stop.

Move this man.

Headboard

Headboard

Wood grain.
A tree's past life.
Every sway to and fro.
Every summer let grow.
It got cut down
in the fucking end though.

Crossing oceans to Old England's green

Crossing oceans to Old England's green

Cross the Atlantic,
but stay on Old England's green land.
Take me to Sayreville,
just promise to hold my hand.
We won't need ascensions or elevations,
just a view, the other and the golden sand.
Sing together, fall together,
be my rocks and my trees.
Sayreville Atlantic holds dear.

In rhythmical memoriam

In rhythmical memoriam

Enjoy the music;
God knows we need the distractions.
Relight memories with sweet sound.
Bathe in the waves as weightlessness
engulfs our hearts, keeping soft rhythms.
To hear the beat of the drums.
To hear the crash of waves.
Grooved into vinyl memories,
we will enjoy the music.