The Clothed Truth
Something bad just happened to me
and I really threw myself into it
It was the day before yesterday
probably a Sunday
the sky remembered to write to the moon
in fairy floss across the sky
like crimson ribbons floating away
wondering why
The moon seemed happy
whistling a tuneless lullaby
to the remembered future
the forgotten past
To me, it all looked rather joyful, hopeful
The sky doing its thing,
hanging out with the contented moon
I walked home, found you there
UNINVITED
I can still hear your pleading prophecy whispering with your déjà vu
come write with me and be my love and we will all the pleasures prove
try the elixir
suck my blood
I’ll devour your
DISSONANCE
Music will paint our murals
writing will feed our sacraments
fucking will excite the loving hurting healing
PROWLING
Fly your kite into the abyss
WRITE YOUR NAME IN THE MUD
Horror Sleaze Trash 
I love the imagery here, particularly the set-up. The persuasion leading up to the loser in the muck is QUITE nice. thank-you Jay Simpson and the HST crew.
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