An Invitation to Violence

I had watching him for some time around town.
He had the calm collected countenance of a
person who was always in and on the know
of all the best happenings. He traveled in all
the creative circles but would slum it with
musicians every now and then. I'll be honest,
he's not the kind of person I would ever have
an normal interest in. But if someone fucks
with one of your close friends then taking
an interest in someone like him is no longer
so strange. Especially after what he had done.
I had seen him at a few of her shows and he
never lingered too long, just long enough for
her to know he was there and make her
uncomfortable. I maintained my distance at
all these gigs but I always had to make sure
to not let my emotions get the best of me.
Who was he? He was an art world taste
maker who believed himself to be above
reproach. He curated galleries in LA, NYC,
and some overseas. If you were in art then
you had to know who he was. Power. Abuse.
Drugs. Coercion. Entitlement. What a piece
of shit human being. I won't tell you exactly
what happened but it was enough for me
to begin to slowly take action. Creating a
web one thread at a time. Our desire for
retribution when there is no recourse for
judicial action is strong. It is like an ancient
need for primal justice against those we
love who had been wronged. I had no desire
to take life, only to inspire fear and terror.
To maim him, to let him know that there
are those who don't care who he is, that
not all of us are cowed by the fleeting whims
of popularity and influence. That all these
things are hollow when your life is in the
hands of someone willing to end you if
it came down to it. I want him to know
there are those of us willing to act on an
invitation to violence.

First Light

Darkness begins to fade as
Black begins to bleed into blue
across the canvas of sky

What can we call morning
aside from the very thing it is?

Waking into the humid warmth
of a land older than civilization
Turning body upright in the hammock
Letting feet touch tiled floor
The birds are already speaking
just outside the doors
in the canopy of trees
The town bell is struck
to mark the passing of an hour
An old motorcycle
passes by outside
as it makes its way
towards the hunt

Night Bloom

Nights of endless wandering

Through lamplit boulevards

Cities blend into one another

Indistinct and uniform

I open my windows

Cool evening air

Tousles my hair

Heartbeat steadies

To the time of the ballad

Braking to a stop

Impatient heart

Heavy foot

Green sets me alight

Forward rush

Into midnight light

Deep breath

Exhale

Blood of the city

From my marrow

It comes

Flows through me

A creature

At home in this place

Sweet Moon

Kiss me as a lover 

8/29/16

11:22pm

On Virgil

lost in the night
walking cracked 
                          and dirty streets
with broke and dirty people
you realize
you have always been
one of them

Work

The car pulled out slowly 

from behind the off-white building. 

It was in no hurry.

The driver made sure to push

his former passenger

into a shaded corner 

of the back lot. 

The car pulled up to the first

stop sign and made a full stop.

He looked left, then right,

saw no one in either direction.

The speedometer moved up

and evened out at 35mph.

He tuned the radio

to the local country station,

it was the only one in town.

'Cocaine Blues' was on.

He rolled the window down

and enjoyed the breeze

across his face.

Late Night Transport

400 trees fell to the passing

of interstellar transport

through the heart of the city.


Helicopters whirr over the sleepless

city. Black pacific breathes

in slow tones.


No footsteps in the hall

as the pillow dreams of the head

waiting to rest upon it once more.