"I've got this killer up inside of me... I can't talk to my mother, (friends, women, coworkers, associates, affiliates, city council, the internets, the homeless or even your mother) so I talk to my diary."

-that Scarface song from Office Space

Flesh of the Pomegranate

Mogs die in battle,
although they strive
for peace and […]

Seed of the Pomegranate

To my personal Terra. […]

Ostinato City, pt. I

~Beads on Angels’ Wings~

Conscience and wit
Work against
One’s own ends
And when […]

Ostinato City, pt. II

~Commission of Craft~

In infancy
Bestial obesity.

Reticently suicidal,
Rent, thus still quite revealing
Sparking […]

Ostinato City, pt. III

~Exaction of Exodus~

Frozen in a sea of Philosophical consequence
Choices alight […]


My conscience reveals
Before me
A majestic cOsInE
Elating and contracting
In a wave, […]


*pulls shortest of all straws, curses under breath while shaking head* […]

Lascivious Virtues Intertwined for Devious Integration


As long as rhyme deems breath
I […]

A Moral Emetic for Mischievous Devastation


There had must be a better […]

An Aesthetic for Moral Conservation


But you cannot,
The liquor is emetic […]