Lay Your Bones Down

February, Where The Grass Is Fed

November, Bare

High Noon

Not by the Light, Nor the Spell

harvestmen waiting motionless in ambush

One has to wonder if it's not just a sick fantasy of an emotionally mutated girl. No, though; I walked the forest myself, and in it's wealthiest depth, I saw the phoenix rise from a shadow of my ashes. I am ne'er once the same as I had; ne'er to forget the dust from which I rose.

Nicholas and The Queen

Self Portrait: January 16, 2014

The Field: 01/14/14

Concept/Model/Editing: Hannah Pitkin
Photograph: Nicholas Clark

when all the rest had crumbled, there among limbs and sore memories and book pages and tin roofs and uneaten but ripe plums, was you. the last man. a

What is it about Duty,
it makes you cringe
it makes you wet

Lost family
Lost

I love you because I know you.

In The Keep

And the tea leaves shown a dark dagger. Point and point again.

Chapter 6: Before The Brainpan, Before The Alligator Shoes, Before The End/The Well

The countdown started when she lifted her head. Three renegades working for the underground law. What's worst is the crime was justified. Passion is a pussy and she had left it behind long ago. But the word righteous could be found in block letters written in faded ink below her left breast. And it was there the first bullet caught. In a moment flesh was torn, a rib was snapped, and a heart burst. No more postcards from the desert. A crow flew from the ash.

twenty thirteen, thus.

You've got a gold front tooth. I saw it from my seat. I'd pay you good money but I like it where it is. Your mouth is rich, boy. Use your words like an adult.

And Said With Such Ease, The Lady Vanished; Red Fingertips Of Rose, Angled Merriment And Equal Diminution

I am absolutely positive,
The red I just pasted on that canvas,
The wet I wiped from my cheek,
The sobriety I forfeit,
The angelic hue I cast,
The tone of my voice when I wake,
The way I use my thumbs to type,
The noises you hear from the hall,
The small whispers of a child,
The need,
The mess,
The life of me,

It's pretend like _______ said so.
_________ didn't make up the questions.
And lord knows the answers aren't there.

The way of it all is dismissed.
It never came so it never left.
'Was'
"Is'
"Forgotten'

i'm a better hack than i am a hoodlum

corner the word smith shift
subtle little chin cleft cover to cover like this
except you and i thrive homeless

didn't mean to leave you with all my charmless clippings
i cool in ice cubes from your fancy dream drippings
and you can call me the reciever
right or left ear dream weaver
at my side the unfolding songster
singing trickster makes this world stronger

they call me little reckless and him mister far gone
side by side we make the tall one
he was a wax president, made out with real hair tho,
smells like a beach accident, a corpse soul and sand mementos.