Stark ugly
vertiginous
despair
barely standing on the sideway
I’m not a fucking poet
more like a corpse
that is driven around town
in a black and quaint funeral car
only that the engine
responsible for my movements
is fueled by fatal instincts
crazy habits
and unfathomable desires
you’ll see me there
apparently thoughtful
walking like others
distinctly human
but no
I’m the wrong
kind of meat-
purely bored
a spectator
with no command
over a lame
existence.
.
Beyond Language 
a fellow i know found your book “Blood Read” at a used book store here in san antonio and lent it to me. I like you poems and intend to use a couple in my weekly poetry blog “Here and Now” at herenow.7beats.com. probably next week. i’ll direct people to your blog at that time.
if you object, email me at allen.itz@gmail.com.
allen
I find your poetry to be dark, moving, and intricately beautiful. Thank you for sharing it. It is nice to find another poet who thinks in a similar vein…
You are an artist in the most fantastic sense of the word.