Tag Archives: Heaven

Raising the Bar

Posted on September 18, 2019 by

   Dylan Thomas falls off his barstool in Heaven.    Lying on the sawdusty floor, he slurs something about a white horse. And chains, and the sea.    God, who gave Lucifer the night off, is tending bar. He comes … Continue reading →

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This Side of Paradise

Posted on April 30, 2019 by

Marshaling heaven the keys to the kingdom find writers typing.  

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Ooooh, Ahhhh

Posted on April 14, 2019 by

The umbilical cable arrived from heaven to bait and hook the grateful mortal who sacrificed his head (and the dead weight of its trivial contents masquerading as profound or important) to become a supple visual vowel with no more ties … Continue reading →

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Distance

Posted on December 12, 2018 by

 People have called it the glow, the click, the hum, and for every abnormal drinker, for every addict, you are willing trade in everything for what amounts to a rigged facsimile of eternity. It is the sort of false eternity … Continue reading →

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The Gospel According to Ice Cream

Posted on June 25, 2018 by

Perfection, this life’s greatest untruth and maligner, see how ice cream summer-melts and runs like happy magma down the ridged wonders of a waffle cone clutched by a child like an edible prayer destined to disappear, one bite at a … Continue reading →

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Fly Now, Pray Later

Posted on May 29, 2018 by

For a subliminal time only it’s here Neverland’s lucid New Romanticism replete with pricks, needles and pines bespeaking Pagan Renaissance Nouveau a movement that will start in your vowels and end in your Oh’s especially suggested for those soft in … Continue reading →

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Shift

Posted on May 20, 2018 by

I used to wreck on a regular basis. Going off the rails was my subversive way of keeping things under control. Illusions and mirages astonished me, still do. Something, anything, to hold on to was my gutted mantra, hollowed out … Continue reading →

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Brink

Posted on May 8, 2018 by

Her hips, bladed just so, moved sharply in sync to the slothful slake of honey, slowpoured to christen the edge and brink of longing. Lazy Sundays between her thighs were my favorite holidays away from me in the nearest heaven … Continue reading →

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Torn

Posted on May 8, 2018 by

All the pearly angels, torn, and wept, like so much confetti in a storm, papering a small world, where heaven closed off to rapt, and cherish got hopelessly lost.

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Tryst

Posted on May 6, 2018 by

The last time I fornicated with an angel my porchlights blew and we became tranluscent sheets of merger rising above a glassy pool of chartreuse reflecting in cursive the lighted gist of our holy remains. God, I’m open to another … Continue reading →

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