The King of Shame takes a bow, contempts his whores as nighttime cash-cows. They think he cares, but he abhors those he lays at the seashore on a foul mattress with distressing springs left with a scent and a one-night fling. … Continue reading
Do you think of me? I profess my heart has healed. Do you think of me as Winter’s wind licks your face? You wear me. I ravish you. [This is #7 of 30 poems written by Stephen Earley Jordan II for a National … Continue reading
Oh Deathmonger, why did you come, knock, knock, knocking on my door, when you knew there’s a doorbell? Why, Deathmonger, did you offer to save me in exchange for her? You waited, at the foot of my bed, glaring for two … Continue reading
You came unwarranted. You were the Manhattan Yeti– large and hairy; ape-like with dark reddish hair, emerging from Ground Zero then hiding behind the internet and indie films and poorly written literature; beside Sarah Jessica and Meryl, with your thick tongue and … Continue reading
I opened myself up to ridicule
when I revealed my comfortless heart.
Now I’m just your April Fool. . . Continue reading