Tuesday, March 15, 2011


You knock-knocked
I who's-thered
and cringed
at the rattle and shake
of rusty hinges
And the door creeped open
I put your pen
to the page
and when I finished,
I wasn't sure how the scribblings of my name
had inked up that document
I hadn't read
the fine print
and before I knew it,
I was being wheeled through Hell,
but I couldn't figure out why
the halls were lined with
All I knew
is I just wanted to be
listening to the rain pittering
watching that iron rust red,
it dripped blood tears,
wearing away
So finally I was thrown
back into the dust
I'd so carefully
every speck into place

Monday, March 7, 2011

La la $

The other day somebody gave me $100 cash for Honduras.
I almost cried. I still owe $800, and most of it is way overdue.

I will trust.