Joy M.

A guy walks into a bar and sits down. He starts dialing numbers, like a cell phone, on his hand, then talks into his palm. The Bartender walks over and tells him this is a very tough neighborhood and he doesn't need any trouble. The guy says, "You don't understand. I'm very hi-tech. I had a phone installed in my hand because I was tired of carrying a cellular."  The bartender says, "Yeah? Prove it!" The guy dials up a number and offers his hand to the bartender. The bartender talks into the hand and carried on a conversation. "That's incredible," says the bartender, "I would never have believed it!" "Yeah," said the guy, "I can keep in touch with my broker, my family, you name it. By the way, where is the men's room?" The bartender directs him to the men's room still in awe. The guy goes in and 5... 10... 20 minutes go by and he doesn't return. Fearing the worst given the neighborhood, th...

Donnybrook     Squiggly markings scissor across his torso, ever vengeful. Standing high above the mayhem, he is their surveyor. I bleed, assassinating these beings, although I'm struck with a stupendous need to retreat.  One last funeral, until eternal night. I shriek in submission, welcoming deaths cold kiss goodnight. Joy4no1

Theater of the Picayune   Sweat drips down my back. "Do you feel better?" Lance asked, righting his pants. I fumble for a reply, hoping he didn't see when I cried, "Lightly." "They say it gets better," he didn't mean it tawdry, stating a flat fact. "Who's they?" "The ones who placed us here." "Oh... I see." "Another night filled with screams." "At least we receive dopamine." "That's what they compensate for," his smirk is pure theater. Just like the camera staged at our cage. Joy4no1

Hellion   This fucking night, Your pestering eyes. I lost the ability to crawl, when hunted wildness demand I die. This stupid dawn, scouring through fever pitched screams. Is this a dream? Drool lays thick where your maw licks. Smokiness envelopes all sight. Have you torn your camouflage at long last? How dare you clip my wings, While coercing my death. Joy4no1

  I'm not crispy I gave you an unfiltered tap into my life. Boisterous words,       so unlike what I threaten. I'm not a liar,        pouting like a realist! So deep did my words go,       you fell apart              and left me soggy                     without that crispness that holds everything together. Fuck this flame! What an example of humility! Butter me up stud! It doesn't matter      still rolling around           slippery in your starvation                         someone will peck at. Joy4no1  

Washed Out   Cup my face in your hands and tell me you love me. For years I've waited for this moment and it's not what it seems. You're dead and by no fault of your own. What a shame you were a son of a bitch  and didn't know the variation between Gin and bleach.    Joy4no1