a leaf that lingered brown

i blame robert frost
his cold methodology
his need to fill disused graveyards with
death’s dazzling white snow glamour
a slow creep crystalline across
an already shattered windshield

i blame robert frost
as i cannot blame
my father
my friend
or an absent god
for them forgetting
they had promises to keep

planchette

there’s a reading chair

i won’t allow to die

propped up with

an old Royal Typewriter case

where i drift off

dreaming unafraid

of slow-moving tornadoes

& your whispering face

weighing scientifically

which is more destructive

.

you’re haunting me

as promised

but not so much i feel put upon

which i know

you would hate

(artwork by Stephen Mackey)

Frankencock

Hugh Hefner is dead
at 91
but his dick
is being kept alive
in the Playboy Mansion
so future generations
of starry-eyed young women
will not be deprived of the misery
of riding his withered antique
liver spotted genitalia
into a career of middling infamy
and sexual exploitation

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