Category Archives: Poetry
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Chaos & Order
Leave a commentJune 24 by The Running Son
Chaos & Order I am the primes that twin at the end of pi where chaos peaks. I see the …
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PROMISED LAND
Leave a commentDecember 9 by The Running Son
PROMISED LAND So strange, this striving by men locked in symbiotic dependance and the sharing of magnetism, and …
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Windtown
Leave a commentDecember 4 by The Running Son
Windtown Chill doom whistle through the window slit. Coyotes roam, at home in the wind current. All night long owls …
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Never forget
4December 4 by The Running Son
Never forget In another life we’ll join hands. In another life the golden light that swells in my …
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why must it be
4July 20 by The Running Son
why must it be following pangs of birth comes bliss – one moment’s recognition of holy worth, to pain …
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our song
4July 6 by The Running Son
our song work ethics spring free the genius frozen in thought at the throat. so sing free man! lest the …
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preservation instinct
1May 25 by The Running Son
preservation instinct a half bleached bobcat skull propped atop a dry cholla branch wards off pigeons and people. cars passing …
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two shadows
1May 13 by The Running Son
two shadows one decade gone and genghis khan was back and attacking and taking heads. ten more years might’ve castled …
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stargaze
1May 9 by The Running Son
stargaze im trying to make pace in a world spinning way too fast. stars or negative space tracers create the …
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just sterling
Leave a commentApril 28 by The Running Son
just sterling there’s no going back. clippers are way past the shelf. there’s mutiny among the cast and the damn …
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middle places
2April 28 by The Running Son
middle places fourtyfive is only middle aged if i live to be a skull. at thirteen & a half i …
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sustainability
1April 26 by The Running Son
sustainability desert folk are a particular type. trust me it takes a soft skin bitch from the ingratiating climes of …
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the two
Leave a commentApril 26 by The Running Son
the two south of the sun man i also hang by cord and crossbeam. north man’s gone soft and his …
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fifth period sniffles
Leave a commentApril 25 by The Running Son
fifth period sniffles fluid production. blood, tears. mucus. school’s a trick for new kids. bold inductions into old folds. lips, …
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gas can
Leave a commentApril 24 by The Running Son
gas can sodium amber lamps and six lanes at three am. june gloom orange county south. disneyland couldn’t be more …
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the stand
1April 24 by The Running Son
the stand the mountain is sheer the canyons are great we’ll press on ahead old foes in our wake our …
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meteor shower
Leave a commentApril 23 by The Running Son
meteor shower Revolving is cleansing. The daily, the hundred year– the knowledge of it. You and me laid bare while …
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how it coulda gone
Leave a commentApril 21 by The Running Son
how it coulda gone lugnut lost. no dime a dozen. but rubberneck detecting the chug of combustion. o jees. like …
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an italian thing
Leave a commentApril 20 by The Running Son
an italian thing i wonder if any one poem has ever matched the effect of a shrug or a rye …
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a rising
Leave a commentApril 20 by The Running Son
a rising once again that wool itch in the skin. spinsters descend with jugs and linger. pilate herding his legacy …
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starlit
Leave a commentApril 20 by The Running Son
starlit still fabulous by the light of seventy votives arranged by heart. drapes part. on undressed weathered agarwood sits a …
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echos
1April 17 by The Running Son
echos heard my name at the first taste of daylight. alone in a valley, between two mountain peaks. to my …
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neovirginity
4April 17 by The Running Son
neovirginity i’ve preserved my breath. no carbon dioxides leaking for the tube-heads. my blood is iron and i am a …
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the show
Leave a commentApril 17 by The Running Son
the show we’d just peaked on med grade mescaline. it was epic, oakland coliseum and dylan played a half set …
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scourge of roses
Leave a commentApril 17 by The Running Son
scourge of roses if i had a million dollars i’d generate a black love market where petals are dried, ground …
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faint
Leave a commentApril 15 by The Running Son
faint i want to nap in the pile. plush throwback hall runner persian dream sequences scatter with a slap …
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the signal
1April 15 by The Running Son
the signal sometimes that beep is your competition horning for position, top heat. but sometimes the beep’s your reverse gear’s …
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napalm
Leave a commentApril 15 by The Running Son
napalm poetry is.. slamming napalm turbo fused and traveling at blood neck speed through the carotid clear down my …
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age difference
3April 13 by The Running Son
age difference what is twenty years anyway? iv’e played the generation game too. given thirtyfive you’ll find a nationalized israel …
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my tv’s an lcd
1April 5 by The Running Son
my tv’s an lcd and for the deal i got on it used i am perfectly happy letting ghost imprints …
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