Posted in a human thing, art, cannibals, dinner under $10!!!, fire, god, methodist coloring book, snake oil, the god virus on August 11, 2017 by Marci Payne

it coulda been different

she said

failing to hide an accent


and any number

of past due notices

i remember it all


fries with that shake

Posted in a human thing, astrolabe, bowling, dragon fly, medicated people, mythology, side show attractions, tunisia, Writing and Poetry with tags , , , , , on August 11, 2017 by Marci Payne

metal shelves lined
promise of relief from
symptoms of systems
and the ever popular
ennui located in aisle 9
among both types of critter
next to the french auburn twist
(she stifles laughter as her
friend insists on spiritually
depantsing each package
and it’s intention)
which sounds just nummy
something I would wish
to eat


considering the purification rituals practiced by some polynesian tribal cultures while in a kitchen in New Jersey

Posted in a human thing, cats, dragon fly, issac newton, partical physics, subtraction, westboro baptist church with tags , , , on August 11, 2017 by Marci Payne

i know it’s not everyday

that the yanks and sox

play it out in the bronx

it just seems like that


gravity is just a theory

Posted in a human thing, art, astrolabe, cannibals, cats, dinner under $10!!!, fire, freaks of nature, god, issac newton, medicated people, nylon, poetry, snake oil, socrates, space aliens, stars, the god virus, tunisia, venomous creatures, Writing and Poetry, yeti on May 25, 2017 by Marci Payne

we all feel the weight

making a living

forgetting to make a life

tip toe away from the places which hurt

decorate dead trees to celebrate birth

and we glow

but it is a nauseating light

battery powered tea candles

without regard for wind


elements which exist beyond

our own personal chemistry

the sphere of influence

which draws others close

the jingle of keys in shaking hands

possess a magical power

they change our prisons into homes

inside we sing oh silent night

because the silence is too much

because the candles won’t ever flicker

because time passes

because life is a virus

infecting the perfect body of death

(she shakes her head

keeping her distance

if only to prove entropy

the only law to which

she is subservient)

because blue is the color

of the sky pretending to be innocent


after all

it’s only a theory




chaos, she said

Posted in art, cannibals, dinner under $10!!!, god, mythology, outsider art, partical physics, side show attractions with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 6, 2017 by Marci Payne

art is the way

people impart order

upon a universe

in which only chaos


she said

quickly returning her attention

to a luke-warm cup of coffee

which has replaced

the obligatory glass of bourbon

most associated with

a bygone era

her lips part

trust me

she adjusts her top

skewed by the mostly

uncomfortable posture

of time lapping at the hem

just above her waist

it isn’t that i oppose order

or insist upon its lack

rather i understand

certain rules

a laugh is poorly stiffled

before breaking eye contact

sipping her tepid beverage

returning to the table

essentially the mess

only makes sense

only when you step back

far enough

or focus


so closely

that it begins to appear

distant again

her hand drifts uncounsciously

fondling an imaginary chesterfield

and a long empty bottle

she keeps


beyond a horizon

whose gravity

is inescapable



beautiful lies (dedicated to Yevgeny Yevtushenko)

Posted in a human thing, art, astrolabe, cannibals, freaks of nature, god, methodist coloring book, outsider art, partical physics, snake oil, the god virus, Writing and Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 9, 2016 by Marci Payne
they are all so lovely
so appealing
the low hanging fruit of
an infinite social orchard
we sit there
gluttonous debauchery
covering our faces
cascading from mouth’s corners
pooling between our naked breasts
yet still we desire more
failing to devour each other
leaving dismembered lives in our wake
gasping for love
a simple touch
from caring hands
holding more than memories
sentimentality for
the devil’s promise
of enlightenment
and well-being
i’ve eaten mango
unclothed in bed with
the most beautiful liars
and include myself
among those who believe

grassy knoll

Posted in 1, art, astrolabe, bowling, cats, freaks of nature, god, nylon, outsider art, partical physics, poetry, rabid dogs, space aliens, stupidity, the god virus, venomous creatures, Writing and Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 6, 2016 by Marci Payne
there are places
from which we can never
find a way home
sitting in the sun staring up
lying about images we see in clouds
paying no attention to the motorcade
or the ducks as they sup upon
the trail of breadcrumbs we left
the fence men discuss
god sized holes
in each any every
the difficulty glare created
before the miracle of polarized glass
and the way pain is mistaken
for a final destination
tree swing tethered
to a recollection of orchards
and a past had by none
%d bloggers like this: