Show Poem: March 18, 2017 Lawrence, KS @ Reply Lounge w/ The Cave Girls + Red Money #poetry 

Photo by Fally Afani

The walk sign is on to cross central
The arrows stab you
In the right direction

We find security in the tunnels
I walk them alone
With little wonder

The conservatives are not flipping
Time is not taking sides
Bags of M&M’s
Jars of Vaseline
Brownies and gluten free pasta
Nothing takes shape
We indulge to a formless mass

Whipping votes for canned lasagna
Pumping up the credits
With juice and cinnamon rolls
Regurgitating the one liners
We ride giant balls of sleaze
Back to Sysiphus
Sailing the seas of SPAM
That promise a longer thicker member

Sometimes we wade through Hell
For no apparent reason
And then it finds us
Like an arrow at the cross walk
Or a sleeping dog on an escalator

When exiting the building
Be aware the traffic runs both ways

Forget the melting clocks
The Iced cookies
The Teriyaki meatballs

We boldly handle
Boxes of discount rubber snakes
The Holy Ghost forgets
The human skeleton that
That poured the drink
The drink of drinks
Drink ye all of it
Every thing must drink
We hydrate to live
It is not a metaphor for blood

Show Poem: February 17, 2017 KC, MO @ The Brick w/ Fem Doms #poetry 

Photo by Fem Doms

Stop punishing me
For every broken branch
I can only dish out as much as I can take
Stop punishing me
The mind is a basement
The skin beneath my skin struggles
To crawl
Will it ever walk
Freely, on its own?

We hide inside the library
Remembering the blurbs
The stories run the show
The catalog of cards

Stabbing at roots in the compost heap
Prying the bone from the dogs throat
Rotting pumpkins and blue banana stickers
There is still abit of dirt left on these ribs

Action Jackson
Jaction ass king
Let’s float
Third string Viking
47 47
That’s the way to get to heaven
Mermaids under the bar
Bar maids under the mer

Stop punishing me
Have mercy and use the whip
The sound it makes reminds me of my
Favorite school teacher

Show Poem: December 16, 2016 KC, MO @ recordBar #poetry 

Photo by Michelle Bacon

Life is not a bowl of ice cream
It is not leftovers
It’s not even a fresh stalk of celery
Waiting to be chopped and mingled
In a succulent trinity Dish

Remove the refrigerator door
Let the kids play
There is nothing hidden in the ice
Crack the egg open

Whip yourself if you must
Do not contaminate the dance floor
With ill will

The cold brings sores
The heat cooks meat
Both pass the germs through us

Lifting the clocks
Of our grand fathers
Excavating the thoughts
Of our great grand mothers

Red and green
The stop and go
Of Christmas contradictions

A child is crying for a candy cane
A man is dying in the frozen rain
Let’s make it vanish like David Blaine