Brevet Wilson Poems

She wore faux fox furs
dyed blue,
she said it matched her purple hair.
and ate nothing but Ramen noodles with miracle whip.
...

I know you;
You are the reoccurring dream I have had
since childhood.
The one that leaves me exhausted all day the next day,
...

I am waiting for the world to explode
I am waiting for the oceans to exceed their grasps.
I am waiting for you to start carving flaming words in to the air
with a silver forked tongue.
...

She drove as I fiddled with the radio.
I was stealing looks at her,
young, fresh, clean.
and oh my god her cleavage was hypnotizing.
...

It's cold and raining
4: 04 AM at the shelter.
From my office I can see fires lit in garbage cans,
and everyone is wearing silver 'emergency' ponchos
...

So many people
with big mouths,
and glass jaws.
When they talk they don't make words
...

He hung there,
not like 'strange fruit'
but like a body.
...

I am sick with your corpse.
The sickness entered through my eyes and the infection has worked its way in to my brain.
In to my sleep,
In to my dreams.
...

There is a room where everything is broken,
a room where gravity even slips gears.
Scrawled and aborted love poems
have been burned into the carpets
...

The moment I met her I thought
'You know, she would play the 'tortured widow' really well'.
After all, if all the world is a stage,
then the cast should at least be adequate
...