By baruk on April 22, 2011
commit your mortal dreams to that undying flame, and scream. the rabid angel’s song is fading on the rise… the eyes, the eyes! soaked in washed out wrung, and hung to die. NOTE: this is a tidied-up version of crucified, probably written around 1993.
By baruk on August 10, 2010
i can’t be arsed with the poetry of love gimme poems that are spat like red kwai* juice, leaving lips stained and teeth charred reminding not so much of lovers as of friends in love** which is not to say i do not love but that it is none of your business i do. *kwai […]