I hit things with hammers and make bad choices.
What is comfort In a universe that is ripping itself apart, Where babies are torn out bloody and screaming, Then thrown into lives in which the only certainties
By Alex Fontaine2 years ago in Poets
We crowd into a darkness of neon and strobe lights, sweating grasping thrusting jumping, Deafened; ears by bass and spirits by alcohol
If and when I return, I would like to be an earthworm. Consciousness buried deep in dark ground, Embraced by the stone silent earth.
“Oh yeah? Did you kill anybody?" Is what people ask when they see smeared across my past
I am the son of Thor. The blood of Odysseus runs in my veins. I breathe thunder. My heart is the ocean. Do you think I am the son of Cain-