All the wreteched

Has she inspired you? Has her accursed struggle been enough to warrant a poster on your wall? Has she lived in your poems? Is she in your music, your songs? Believe me the irony is not lost on me. But she is dead and you want to feel bad. It's all the wretched for themselves.… Continue reading All the wreteched

Rimbaud died and we are all alive

There is one pothole every Friday away that a mid level tech geek is happy to stray into, for fear of cha-cha -ing with his third floor neighbour over his late night strolls over to Mrs. Verma's cottage and slipping, rather quietly so out of his shoes and into an arm as slender as Mrs.… Continue reading Rimbaud died and we are all alive


I dream of electric days thousand volts a second the shivering bone a bright blue home but she probably needs it more Her hair died last August in the shade of God now she lives on magic dust and cocaine. I mean I'm holding her tight Oh! Such a petite zombie delight wants to eat… Continue reading RTF