Or so they say. Or so they say.
But I have seen a predawn glow
That holds more fear for me, you know,
...
Chocolate covered Peeps have never looked as grotesque
as when you press them, sloppily, to your lips,
in pajama pants and my old band shirt.
Puppies and skulls, barely reacting to each other.
...
She died the day her mother died.
We all saw it.
We watched.
...
Way far down the Willow grove
Laid a maiden fast asleep.
In the lacquer lake she dove,
Tearing the placid water deep.
...
I won’t let this speak of love
Or deathly yearnings, savor sweet
Or lusty desire, like a cat in heat.
No mad men killing for a lock of hair
...
Mrs. Mc’Donald told me to write.
Write of my best friend, Edgar.
My friend Edgar speaks of black birds
...
When the snow falls from the horizon,
And the icicles form on the ground,
I will wait till morn for the sun to set,
And lose you all around.
...
Oh what a fate! Oh cruel eclipse!
To leave the world at my fingers’ tips.
To give to me a mighty sharpened sword
To let me give an even sharper word?
...
I slept with the lights on,
Blaring,
For fear of what
I could do with darkness.
...
Freshman at New York University.)
'The Night Is Darkest Before Dawn'
Or so they say. Or so they say.
But I have seen a predawn glow
That holds more fear for me, you know,
Than any darkness ever held.
No it’s not darkness there I dread
But light that seeps into my head
Through eyes both weary and inspired
To dreams most natural and acquired.
Light that takes my hands by force
And drains them of their living blood.
And dips them in God’s inkwell, blue
And smothers them in stormy hue.
I see the world, through eyes undead
and wish for light to dance.