The Road Not Taken

I am the road not taken.

I am not offered,

Nor displayed. 

A lease, overdue-

Never signed by me, or you.

I am the slow burn.

I am modesty.

I’m honesty, and suffering.

I’m hate without forgiveness.

I am the road that has never been taken.

In hotels, I have always been

the room that has never been stayed in.

I am the dead end road (again),

the obstacle, the swell.

To Vegans, I’m a carnivore.

In Peace on Earth, I’m Hell.

I am the vehicle awry.

I beg for maintenance-attention.

I need your filthy love,

but, I prefer your base affection.






The only things he didn’t take 

were the things that 

didn’t fit.

Like me. 


(unlike the TV)- 

would NOT be  

picked up, 


Ode to Lost Children…

This is my life…and it

is rotten. It is flawed.

I am too often exhausted, 

by overthinking, and dark days-

very poor judgement calls, and

vanity, to abasement. 

There is always a reason, for 

my binges, blackouts, and 

magnificent stupidity; (it

is very likely), the profound

and hateful futility (of it all).

If there were more than 

just my wasted life-

(hanging in the balance)…

It would be a cataclysm-

(especially for those 

swaggering douchebags, who 

will never, 



I miss my kids. (The 

world stopped turning, a







Rapture holds
passion, not
(You have become
my forsaken

Ravish me.

The heat (is nearly
I’m kissing,
your neck, (when)
my tongue finds the
sharp definition of your
Adam’s apple…Tastes-
so sweet, (and
so wonderful),
beneath the stubble
on (your neck),
your sculpted jaw,
and the other
delectable parts of you.
The salt of
sweat, leaves a hint,
in my mouth. Testosterone,
magnetic pheromones,
(fill up my sinuses,
head, and my throat).
And this divinity, almost
makes me forget, about
the pleasure I feel, every time
you move your hips.

Ravish me,

And slippery high moments,
that pale me-(just).
Pierce me.
Impale me, again and again.
It’s the flesh in my body, and
the ice in my soul.


Frustration: (Enter Stage Left)

I’m gonna give it up,
because, “I likes you”, but…
I don’t . I love the
things that you, could do, to me:
but-won’t. There’s not
enough, (of you), to come
around my (back-ward,
dirt-road, no-excuse-for-a)

Upon the knee
of optimism: “it’s
more colourful
than I thought”…
these township roads Continue reading “Frustration: (Enter Stage Left)”

My Life

My boy-s have such beautiful eyes: all in the name of their minatory, blue-eyed Daddy. Perhaps he is a menace; you can believe me when I say…he is. Fortunately, for all concerned, (I see through, right to) their hearts…and it’s so familiar to me. My other two children (my son and my daughter) look more than a little bit, just like myself…an undeniable genetic fact, that has caused each some dismay. Their character is sound and open-(perhaps it’s just my eyes), but….I’m in love; the purest love with all four of my children…(perhaps I will live long enough to hear them call me mom).