Absinth Poems

allegro: vermilion fields are history

he's been ill for some time
terminally ill from mysterious origins
sick of all the monsters in the closet

in close proximity of the macabre mansion
peacocks are flying over the hanging gardens
and books are covered with frozen blankets

adagio: ceremony...Read More

we have sinned mortally
he affirmed on our 
tortured souls
absinth in my drying throat
forgive us we beg you on
bleeding knuckles and knees
morganatic dreams of submission
heightened voices dramatic gestures
morning trickles into summer 
crying birds of sorrow 
we slithered in
false prayers 
stop this
bloody
rain
...Read More

If you caught my glance
and bottled it for perfume
it would be called: "Cold
Bitter Lime and Lemon Rind
Absinth Alchohol Delight"......Read More