Acid (day 1608)

Acid inflections
Purge soul from desire,
Lingering intentions
Carry my night:
Left lane right lane.

I curve your heart
Around crescent moon
Shaped stools
Delicately dancing
At the feet of my wisdom;
Tooth: sweetened.

Biting into a Caesar brick
Closed around uninviting
Revelations,
A pale ghost runs around
The neighborhood tonight.

Grasp at my turnpike.
Leave an overspent
Midnight dance and
Recoil in pure madness
Like a sesame seed bagel,
Cream cheese.

If I wasn’t a sorcerer
Scrambling dimes
To make a call,
I’d hover gently around
My window,
Until brakes
Were squealing as night set.

Can my name
Become an icon
Dressed in black
Upon your wall?
Can a dollar get me beggars
Shooing shines
At half past twelve?

And like a crawling rat
A hood makes my figurines
Sound silent,
Grooving effortlessly
Into a sea of closed doors
That pacify each and every
Bond I’ve made
Through a long night:
Solitude.

Hand Stamped (day 1533)

This works along the outlier,
A hard gamble with two cigarettes
Dangling loosely in his left hand.
This pulls hard on conscience’s trigger;
Chrome circles and hand stamped VOID
Letting his tight heart
Make shadow puppets on a busy street corner.
This walks home lonely,
Clip-clopping a sweet tap-tap-song out
With rats and harmonized spray cans
Keeping alley cats tempered.

Mario Contefetti (day 671)

Nope, didn’t even leave a single slice
Such a delicious, 4 topping
Clay oven roasted
Peperoni, mushroom
Cheesiest of all cheeses
Black olives straight from the tree
And the garden of love
THE GARDEN OF LOVE
Such fruitful abundance
From this same loving garden
Came green peppers of such freshness
Such juicy succulence
That it left me no choice today
Where all that was mine to do
All I could even do
Was smell with my nose
Fall in love with my eyes
Loosen my leather belt
And enjoy, savor
Every. single. bite
Of that 4 topping pizza

Can you still smell it lingering in the air?
I’d say I’m sorry for not leaving a slice..
If I wasn’t so full..

aFullRatMario can be purchased here.

The Number Three (day 634)

Imagine the shallows of tepid water
Wading through with no regard
And tiny snowblowers buzzing in the background
Reminding you of childhood horrors
In the year of the Rat
With Chinese food at the local diner
Chopsticks and good year fortunes
Like hockey cards and good luck pitchers
Walking two by three down sloppy roads
Three crammed in the back of an ol’ pickup truck
The bumpy way from ice cream to the lookout
With sand banks and long lobs
Exploding in magical madness
Imagine all the broken bike tires
Lost pucks and dead tennis balls
Bounced bald flat basketballs
And the advent of the GameBoy
All within view of this
Tepid water swaying about your
Soaking feet wading through
Mysteries of histories