I pocketed the devil's dice And looked out upon uneasy streets Where people ran like rivers Into the deep dystopian weeds Slow burned and...

I had an idea for a horror story called 1991 but just ended up writing a poem instead, enjoy: 1991 The year horror takes shape another...

On and off again during my life there has been the feeling that things are about to combust, fall apart, or all come crashing down....

If I could explain it I wouldn't be here again With these colors in my hand And these words on canvases If I could remember I'd find my...