Thanks for coming. Curl your tail around your whiskers and wait. Rest, nest, and digest.

If you want to hear my work, I post readings on Instagram.

And if you really like what you read, consider supporting me with a tip or by booking me!

Anathema

From a place of privilege he pulpits pristine images 

Oysters spitting sea salt, rolling thunder blowing reeds across 

All in the wind again 

To watch a crab peekaboo with you and fish jump in schools 

Is to fall in love with ocean life, devotion over shallow pools 

To body roll in gentle waves 

Stick deep hands into sand to pull up jewels

Then pray  

For meat hidden in the middle 

Then into the pot, never too hot, simmerin' 

Family and ocean spray all in the wind again 

 

Often in baked clams found on your own land one finds pearls

Free for pondering, wandering, wondering

 where are all the other boys and girls?

But surely the irony isn't lost on me

And no matter how beautiful the beach

Dried out feet on white sand coated in sea salt

Scrape like a chalkboard, erasing the mailman

Setting your teeth on edge as you smile

Whatever message was there was wiped away in denial

In due time well

Delivered in all white enamel bright like a bleach stain 

Where it stands still

Hope that the golf cart under drunken hearts handles

Houses coat the white island black

Reflect what we made

Like a tin can

Kick the shiny bill down the beach, man

Shingles and asphalt

Rework the dunes into bad salt

Despite the fact that it always changes

From a distance, we call the beach land

 

Let me back up, in case you don't know

Not a mile off the shore you will find a new and hostile world

Strange alien figures snap with pincers

the tide and wind fight against you

A short stumble might cut your hand to ribbons in an instant

And if you lose the thin shield under your feet

In just a few minutes you will not be able to breathe

 

That is the world we inhabit

If you've never been among its beauty you will never understand it

And yet just a quick paddle away from pure helplessness 

Is a wealth and class battalion hoarding lessons on life's preciousness

Why do soft people seek harsh landscapes?

But who am I to talk from my back deck, sipping the sunset and eating pancakes

Ooo ooo wait, there is music in the kitchen

Run and grab the neighbors

Run and bundle up the children

Crack a beer

Pour the wine

Shake a cocktail with some brine 

Who has time to be class conscious when we're doing so fine

True fun

Hold a maraschino cherry overtop the sinking sun

call that shit eclipsed by a virgin

Right?

 

Anathema is a confusing word

And half the fun is diffusing the herd

This is a sacred place where we learn what life makes

And yet we use it as a landfill for stale crackers and birds

Boy do I feel funny spending summers at a beach house

To hate the place that once kept you sane

Can make you freak out

The luxury that abates the pain

Sure makes a closed mouth

But knowing that you can't give the same

Well would you speak out?

 

Captivated by the sensation water makes

The irritants set in late

Flip flops start to rub two ways

Sun turns red on pale face

Dried out and exhausted

Too busy laughing, drinking, and basking

To feel that paradise is haunted

By what isn't there

By who isn't there

But the houses just get bigger in spades

From that demand

Ancient prehistoric sand is naturally washed away

but gets unnaturally replaced 

Call up the man

Once upon this island shore would make waves

Now it just deep ends

Feeding endlessly into the people that erase

We call that “the end”

 

So I stand here under moonlight on this oh so black beach

The infinity of the sky and the sea kissing cheeks

A silence so loud that I could scream, that I could sing

It is so powerful it feels like the solution to everything

And yet the fact that it's defiled by those who don't appreciate it

Makes me wish the ocean would rise and wash away bliss

But the truth is I just wish that you kids

Could get lost here where the void is

And feel your problems float away like it's

All in the wind again

Our natural places keep us sane

They make us small and remind us how precious it is to be safe

I hate that I hate the place that fills me with love

Anathema, ever after, god above

But I hope that one day where the horizon line makes the blues meet

Ocean spray and families sway, oyster shucking our souls complete

Geographically it doesn't matter but naturally and spiritually replete

Despite the avarice, the destruction, the greed, we’ll be

Gentle human spirits touching, we'll greet like breeze blown friends

All in the wind again

Cannibals in a Hurry

All My Friends Are Fine