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


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)


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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