mulch

statues of Buddha
break into rock candy
under the hammer

silver & glass

each thought is paint on a mirror

the dead have all the music
but vastness is nothing to them.

i'm happy to die small,
when such vastness awaits.

you'll know you're in hell
when beauty becomes poison
and nothing but death
can fill your empty breath

hell is Lucifer's
caricature of death
where life is broken
but never transformed

orgy

How many nihilists does it take to screw in a burnt-out light-bulb?

Nostalgiferatu

i saw
the quiet
ineffable
beckoning of life

but like a child
could not let go
of one fantastic memory
one incomparable sunrise

everything after
is yesterday's rainbow