Ballerina With Fins

She, under her
Big smile stows
away
the unhappy memories
...

what is poetry anymore/is it this? /
a parade of words/blank ants
crawling across the page/in
a series of condensed/paragraphs.
...

Her hands were bound
to puppet strings
she couldn't run
she couldn't scream.
...

sitting in the warm comfort
of our home, i squabble
with my little sister over your
newly-baked
...

He escaped from the circus,
shark-eyed, white-gloved.
His nose redder than Eve's Apple,
his face whiter than the white of Death.
...

Absent Friends;
here's to them.
...

and all the men and women merely players?
...

Cloudy green
Lush Forest, made
of the stuff
dreams are made of,
...

My
Chanel
lipstick
seems
...

Beware; they say, Beware.
Be wary, be watchful; Beware.
Be shady and shaky and farfetched;
the warning; do beware.
...

Broken crayon
grimy orange,
Smudges of
dirt, of love,
...

Life is a freak show
and we are all freaks.

Mother i listen and i'm
...

(L*ve's a four-letter word,
so, darling, don't you swear)

I'm sorry that I killed you, honey,
...

Who am I?
I have sat myself firmly down,
in the middle of the universe,
neither right or left, torn between
...

Believe it or not;
I am a Poem Hunter
and I will not hesitate to attack.
I wallop words, every single one of
...

Jessy, Jessy, Jessy, I do.
Perhaps I do, do you
Do too?
...

Close your eyes, baby,
filter out the Darkness,
and you can still see the
world through the sunlit
...

Under the apple tree
in fall, eating
rubies the size of her palm.
Leaves falling on to her
...

Hello little miss Anonymous,
splashing your ambiguous name in black
over my page;
AnonymousOne
...

Little girl
pink frock,
touches Death:
a morbid
...