circumnavigating a minefield of hurt feelings with lead boots filled with pin-less grenades while resting my laurels on a forehead scarred by the thorns of your adoration

I think we’re all cracking up.
Just a little.

Like bridges over desert gorges,
we ache.
The sun slowly drying
the concrete.

But instead of softening
with old age,
we become brittle.

The wind feels harsher
and solitude becomes
a burden.

The white noise crescendo
from a poet in purgatory
deafens the soul.

The universe is a hand

My fists are tired of
punching phantoms
I can’t connect with.

I tried to hold a séance
with our love but you
can’t speak with
something that isn’t

I think what we have
here is a failure
to communicate.

Let me explain it
in a language that
you’ll understand:


purgatorypoetry replied to your post: Look at Wendy’s collar. Trippy.

Read something about how it was supposed to be a tribute to his mother? Maybe BS?

“We are aware of this and find it interesting that it appears our Wendy cameo has ‘mom’ on her ruffled collar. We can assure you it was unintentional,” Wendy’s senior vice president of communications, Denny Lynch, wrote in an emailed message to The Huffington Post.

This is apparently old af. I guess I don’t eat out often enough. My bad.

thanks! this feedback rocks...
purgatorypoetry replied to your post: “folk education meets modern medicine”:

Excellent piece. The comparison of the alarm clock’s beeping, the intervals of peace between demonic screeches. The passing of a demon which we try but still do not understand. Cancers and other deadly afflictions. Beautiful in its simplicity.

this is helpful because - woot! you got it. i had a long chat conversation with a young friend who said to me last night “I don’t really understand what cancer is or how treatment for it works…” I ended up typing this like… idk, fucking big long personal wiki on what i know about cancer and it disturbed my sleep and my waking up this morning. i keep thinking: where the fuck did I pick up all that info in the course of my life? how the hell do we come to understand such things, especially if the tragedy of it doesn’t directly affect our lives. i’ve never had to deal with cancer in any kind of personal way so…???  it felt disjointed and complex but i think i really was trying to simplify it for myself so – dead on. you *got* it. thanks for saying so. virulent-tuber replied to your post: “folk education meets modern medicine”:

Cripes I love this.

Cripes! I love that declaration. thanks, Zach

purgatorypoetry replied to your post: “for some strange reason…”:

I’m glad to see our military engaged in something productive rather than destructive. Soldiers follow orders and can provide much needed skilled hands in these regions.

i get this perspective and i believe that’s the ? intention (mostly)

but it doesn’t reallly make me any less nervous or worried. all we ever need, it seems, is some humanitarian excuse to get our boots in the door…