Taken in Darby, MT


Hell on earth
in the pine fire
tearing 20 miles south.
Trees ache to be moved,
nature cuts herself,
dead are forgotten
in coin-faced flames.

I’m so obsessed with Buddha
I’m so obsessed with time;
Everything under the sun is burning
behind a veil.

– Darby, MT



Taken somewhere in Montana

L.A. you bore me
with your crowds and cars—
bitter aged youth
under construction in the night
pushing old souls onto desert highways;
Montana you bore me
with your pines and rain
flooding the valley
giving the drunks a reason;
life is boring in its constant:
seconds tick by lending average moments
building insufferable days that turn
to years of aching nostalgia.

– Darby, MT


The blue line travels south,
dragging its shade across the gravel shoulder,
bending with the grotesque shadows of dusk—
darkness falling with the sun.

De-punked and re-punked again
troublefooting through poverty,
striving in a dress shirt:

A middle man in the ghetto,
making it in the margin
spilling into the night’s puddles.

– Los Angeles, CA


Taken in Seattle, WA

15 North

Electro poetry,
desert dubstep
racing through heart beats,
up and down windows
sucking smoke in the mirror;
I’m staring into taillights to find myself
not alone but lonely in transit
always with perspective in the rearview—
ghosts of what we made,
plans in the future rotting
like all the dreamscapes I’ve left;
Deserted traveler coasting,
spilling blood unknown to god,
a soulless spirit born with memory.

– Las Vegas, NV


Taken in Seattle, WA

Long Beach

Lusting again on the tracks
to your room; in my thoughts
you don’t resist. Your thigh rises
my palm meets your waist; you’re fixed
with acceptance and even desire.
The train is full and the ride is long,
I catch a girl’s eyes and think of her
for awhile.
Her platforms are handles
her neck is desperate.

This is the mind of the fiend.
A man in spirit
dreaming conviction—
coasting through the night,
arriving bored and hesitant.

– Los Angeles, CA


Taken in Seattle, WA


Painted rock,
fire-lit history,
deep cave shadows growing
in the night.

Cooking the sun dial
spins too fast;
time boils down.

We invented the past,
counting up and away,
clocks tightening to the right,
trapping the dying

– Darby, MT


Taken in Santa Monica, CA