Wednesday, April 18, 2007


I always hated those accounts where you deposit money and then can't touch it for years. Is that what I'm doing?

Saturday, April 7, 2007


We fill up space
because Nothing
is terrifying.

This is no different.

Sunday, April 1, 2007

Lost and Found

I found Jesus,
he’s been stuck in traffic
all this time.

He said he’s hungry.

And grateful for satellite radio and air conditioning.

Sound and Silence

I’ll be damned
if one hand clapping
isn’t louder
than one hand praying.

You're For Me

He watches her slink into the bar. The smoke parts in curtains as she moves slowly from the door to the bar. Her eyes dart back and forth, praying silently to not be seen.
How silly it was for her to try to hide from him. She was his, his and no one else’s.
He takes notice of her outfit as she collapses into a seat at the end of the bar, secluded in darkness. Her hair flows down around her face, both framing and hiding the pale visage underneath. He stares at her and takes notice of what she’s chosen to wear for her awakening tonight. The light catches her just right, and he can see that her hair and dress are the same shade of jet black. The dress clings in all the right places, and flows around her naturally. The black of her hair and dress is set off by the white jewelry she picked for him tonight. A necklace falls across her chest, tiny strips of what appears to be ivory hanging from a black cord. Her wrists jingle with similar bracelets, black cords with white artifacts hanging from them. The bartender brings her drink and briefly tries to strike up a conversation. He feels the rage swell and stir inside of him, and the bar slowly begins to turn red. He calms though as she motions for the bartender to leave her alone. The rage turns to confidence and joy, she knows who she belongs to.

She waves the bartender away after her drink comes, preferring not to engage in conversation. From the moment she walked in she could feel his eyes on her. Her skin tingles with sweat and emotion, and she knew that it was time to leave this place. How many nights he had been following her she couldn’t remember, but over the past weeks it had become increasingly obvious. She shuddered briefly, feeling his gaze wash over her as she gently brushed an errant strand of hair from her face. Her hand moved from her hair to her necklace, seeming to play with the dangling pieces on her necklace of its own accord. She’s been here too long, too many eyes staring and remembering. She glances briefly at the man whose eyes haven’t left her since she entered, then slowly makes for the door.

His eyes widen slightly when they catch hers, taking in the moment. That look was all he needed. Her eyes are purposeful, they’re inviting. They whisper and scream to him curses and prayers, a beautiful cacophony. He waits for a few brief, agonizing moments after the door closes behind her to begin his pursuit. He can feel the excitement build as he stands to leave. His heart pounds faster, his senses become more acute and time begins to slow around him. The transcendence, like so many times before, had begun.
The streetlights outside are a poor attempt at illumination. Nearly all have shone light on too much, and those that remain aglow flicker with regret at their prolonged life. He catches a glimpse of white light off of her necklace as she slowly turns down an alley. What a clever creature he’s chosen, she had already found a secluded spot for her imminent rebirth.
He follows from far behind at first, but the arousal is too much. He forsakes all pretenses and sprints towards her. She looks behind her as she hears his pace quicken and his breathing intensify. She begins to run herself, but her shoes resist her flight. He closes the gap, reaching her hair with one hand. A simple thrust is all it takes to throw her to the ground. Her whimpers and cries are exultant to him, but he lets them wash over him. The mundane senses had no place in this alley.
He rips and tears, and within seconds she’s laid bare before him. Her skin is whiter than he’d remembered from the nights he’d spent outside her window. She’d kept herself pristine, an alabaster tribute to him. “You’re for me,” he whispers softly. Her response isn’t voiced, but the sounds of nails on pavement and tears gently hitting the ground tell him all he needs to know.
He begins to force her legs apart, but to his joy they fall open for him of their own accord. A small part of him regrets that she’s given up so quickly, so easily. He couldn’t blame her though, she’s learned faster than the others that this was the greatest moment in her life. He feels the urges growing inside him, the pressure building that was the vanguard for his gift to her. His hands move from her wrists to her throat, beginning to slowly squeeze the life from her. He allows himself a smile at his kindness. Letting her continue on after this moment would be torture for her, a life full of pain unimaginable. She would leave this world knowing that the last moments of her life were perfect, that her purpose here had been fulfilled. His hands squeeze tighter in anticipation, and he stares at her eyes as they began to roll back in her head. He lets out a small laugh as he notices her smiling even as the life drains from her. None of his others had ever smiled before. How badly she must desire this moment.
His body writhes in pleasure, perfect harmony between all parts. He felt the waves of energy spread through him. It was so pure he felt like his chest might explode. Breathing was difficult, but he knew that with each breath he took, he was becoming something perfect. A new sensation floods his senses, a feeling like warm syrup flowing over his body. His eyes open to see the knife sticking from the side of his chest, placed lethally between his ribs. His eyes move quickly from the knife to her face, and before the darkness took hold of him he saw her lips move, whispering and screaming at the same time. He knew that those words were the last thing he’d ever know
She waited until he closed his eyes before her hand slipped behind her thigh. She waited for his body to tense before she brought her hand from behind her to the side of his chest. She envied him, the mix of pure pleasure and absolute terror that must’ve been flowing through him. The surprise in his face made her body swell with a torrent of emotion and pleasure. Her skin made for a striking canvas as his blood dripped onto her, a mix of creation and destruction. Pure art. Before the light leaves his eyes, she whispers softly “You’re for me.”
She rolls him off of her as his body goes limp, and takes her time choosing which part of him would become hers forever. Her necklace and bracelets were already full with the bones of her previous hunts, but she knew she could fit one more before she would need to make a new piece. Maybe an anklet, next.


There were 10 little Indians
and a jumping kid
with a candlestick.

Or something.
I’ve never seen either.

MacDonald had a farm,
Orwell had an Animal Farm,
and my uncle had a movie
called “Fun on the Farm.”

He was a weird guy.
I hope.

Then of course
there were Jack and Jill.
Everything turned out ok,
since she was on the Pill.

Jack broke his skull,
but at least didn’t have