No problem,
setting the desert alight,
being one with the
brutalizing beasts!

As long as I hated
I could kill.
I could hurl a brick,
shatter a window,
a skull,
rain down fire on those
mother fuckers.

Celebrate Día de los Muertos
with the dead.

There are times
I abandon myself
in the Denny’s
at three am.
Gums numb,
bleeding nostrils,

A dulled,
limp dicked,

If I get killed it will be by
my own hand.


1 Comment

Filed under original writing, outlaw poetry, poetry, writing

One response to “Denny’s

  1. Scary – real haunted feel about this.

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