You turn the knob counterclockwise
And the door, freshly framed, creeks open
Into the apartment. Complex
Emotions wind through you,
You can’t put your finger on it,
Although you feel you oughta be able to,
And they’re crooning
About the same things
Or are they, thinking
About the real things
Or are they, in this dimly lit room.

You venture, the floor creeks too, further
Into the kitchen, past the dining room,
Where they sat like mannequins
With their arms splayed,
With their legs crossed,
Or were they
Standing with just smiles spread
Across both their empty faces,
Or were they torn
Out circular voids,
Into the hallway that contains
A bathroom
In between two bedrooms.
You push open the bathroom door,
Already cracked opened,
It’s dark but
You can see the tub half filled with blood.

It’s only upon waking
You realise
It was only,
A fabrication
Of a world,
Of your own.


Was It

Within the murky amniotic black
Fluid airs swayed; sort of like lights
Refracted through disturbed liquids
Reflected onto a surface,
They met on the deserted promenade
Lined with stony rosette bushes
Shaking in the eldritch wind,
Never really knowing
How one felt
While the other
Knew full well.

Where figurations suddenly appeared
Then disappeared
Just as quickly as they’d shone,
Questionably dispersing
Bursts of warmth along with them.

But up, up, one flew, with the highest of hopes
Towards such fleeting stardust iterations,
When they assuredly grew too close
To glorifications in the heavens
Where the lesser, they saw
Nothing had been
Really there




Tauntingly, as an immortal wraith met its
Younger phase via the Time Travel Tree
Underneath underground tunnels, mines
Raucously rumbled from mine carts rumbling
Sordidly, then ran through its sordid
Wavering configuration, confounded by
The aberrant losses in future’s gestations.

Garnered abhorrences bottled up inside vibrant
Renaissance inspired crystalline decanters with stoppers,
Sardonically refused to minimize the flow of toxins, where
Sluices were built to protect, prevent, and withhold repetitive disasters.


A nightingale dives towards
mined florescent fluorite minerals
as it curtails its wings
to change its trajectorial line
to land on an approximated piece.

It twitters songs of glib connections,
with its eyes of inverted concaved florescence,
of the artificial and the natural,
of ludicrously unblinking lids.

A glass sphere of optical filters
emits ultraviolet illuminations
prior to the dusk and dawn
of one star and one fixture; redux.

While it would plead hopeful,
aghast, on this storied planet
of ridiculous magic tricks.

Determined Experience

Emanations of grey
Whitish moistured
Airs from tentacled
Aqua cucumber skins;
Extraneously boisterous;
Extricated hysterically
Induced aggrievances
Of centaurian camaraderies
Into isolated black holes.

Inclinated beliefs
Of crumbling confectionary walls
Of moisture filled sogs
Of fearful weaknesses
In acclimated tendencies
Of plummeting debris.

Extraterrestrial locations
Assured the unfounded
Inside cautioned efficacies,

As their loves called
A slew of fated souls
Of unabashed stakes.


Nightmarish incubi soared through the kingdom, icily
Crystallizing subterranean plains in alizarin crimson yields.
Frozen figures of sarcastic synergies imploring motion
Within obstructions disintegrated as farcical defiances
While lost souls cowered inside these forgotten labyrinths
Where energies were consigned to shaded hiding spaces.