I read my name on a binder that was yours 

An age or two ago 

There was a smiley face but it wasn’t mine 

Because in those days I never smiled

And these days I don’t either 

So I guess not much has changed

Except you’re older 

And I’m older 

And you don’t write my name on your binder anymore 


Time is a Circle Death is a Joke You’ve Heard Before

Baby imagine you and I were the last two people on Earth,
And we didn’t hate each other

With gritted teeth
And eyes closed
Naked as the denuded fields
We make life reborn
In the same animosity
That killed it


Photo by jean wimmerlin on Unsplash

True Love is as Pure as a Cuckold’s Kiss

true love is only real in fiction

and even then it’s usually fake

sometimes I have the energy to love you forever

until that emotion mounts in height like a terrible Pompeii

and I wanna explode

but nothing ever happens

a silent eruption

an invisible collapse

I bury the thought beside all the other empty graves I’ve dug

then I spend antic weeks hating you

trying to hide from your smile

as full of disgust as I was of love

until I have to dig a grave for that too

so tourists from the future

can’t come ogle my tragedies

Propaganda Department 

I want to work for the government in the Propaganda Department

And manipulate minds

Like a sadistic computer technician

Engineering consent for horrible crimes

I want to paint dead kids in the hue of freedom

And fill factories with labourers

Who think we need the bullets

Because the only way to safety is through the sternum

And between the C1 and C2 vertebrae

With bayonets of strong rhetoric

I want to work in the Propaganda Department of the next Total War

Punching out death sentences on safe white paper

Because life has been dishonest to me and treated me poorly

And now, true to form, I want revenge

Not détente

I want to perpetrate the same crimes on another

That I am bruised with

And condemn them to the same treatment I’ve received

Feeling superior as I watch them suffer


I can be happily blind to my own hypocrisy

I will have successfully indoctrinated myself

Into the world


…And then I will be an asset



Photo by Camille / Kmile on Unsplash