Conscience is no more than the dead speaking to us.
Poetry, Death
I'll Die For Your Sins If You Live For mine.
Poetry
all right buddah gets a backstage pass but all his friends have to pay
Poverty of young men alone behind thestairways, who practicealchemy inside bottle caps, who knowthe altruism of a last syringe.
Poetry, Sharing, Heroin
I wind up stretched across the couchstill nodding with Sherlock Holmesexamining our crushed veins
Poetry, Heroin
On a whim, he stopped and bought a watch from a sidewalk vendor. Normally, Billy could not abide keeping time, especially when it was attached to one’s body. Time was like a relentlessly needy lapdog one had to haul around. It barked too much and had no sense of loyalty.
Time