Saran Wrap Larry

When I was a sloppy teen, I once woke to find a weird saran wrap holder salesman with a porn-stache in my raised ranch home.  My ‘rents had regrettably failed to inform me this friend of a friend of a friend’s dirtbag salesman’s friend was staying for the same weekend I had planned to exploit my house or sake of a drinking party on. The party persists, stache-can man lurks n’ lunges, streakin’ his slime wherever he walks. I don’t remember his name, but I am pretty sure he was a Larry. He left my beer fridge empty and a saran wrap holder that never really worked very well, oh well.


Soft n’ Glow

off you go now, you ghosts as one

in a sobered

a pause, a nod
for thanks,

shook off some layers,
and a few gray hairs
i’d wager,

now come tag me on the toe
for the off roads mapped
thru my behaviours-

a pat on the head,
and off to bed
we go,

breathe the flame out,
soft n’ slow

ever bathed in the



and with a prick through the wrist he-

loosened up on
some boundaries a bit
little butterfly wings are
sweet n’ light enough
to swim me deep
enough to


in each scream i’ve
been whispered

as distress passed through
such tightly creased

to envelope, on the other
side, already licked one and
sealed one draped all over
your lids all sticky
fudge n’ shit

and then what? just
see what else