SurREALITY (A Crappy Short Story)

         No one ever truly knows any answer to life’s greatest questions of all time. Like, Why are we here? or Who created God? Not a single scientific research study could prove or disprove the existence of God or provide an answer to any of these questions. At least none that I know of. Besides, I’ve got questions of my own. Continue reading SurREALITY (A Crappy Short Story)



Love is two-faced
Sometimes it’s a compass
in the middle of a forest;
Sometimes it’s the forest.

Love is two-faced
Sometimes it’s a  round spoon
Scooping you up from rock bottom;
Sometimes it’s a three-pronged fork,
Pinning you down from the pinnacle.

Love is two-faced
Sometimes it’s a nail,
Piecing creaky floorboards together;
Sometimes it’s a hammer,
Shattering frosted window panes
Into artificial glitter.

Love is two-faced,
And anyone who believes otherwise
Is either an optimistic fool,
Or a delusional mess.

Continue reading Two-faced


Across the distance
He could hear
The eager rush of the waves
Nearing the fingertips of the shore
“We’ll get there, we’ll get there,
We’re finally getting there.”
Drunk with the charm
Of a promising current
As their wishful hubbub
Turn into multiple,
Successive howls
Hushed to stillness
Drawn back to rest as
Part of the endless ocean
and over
How tragic,
How sorrowful,
How remarkably beautiful.

Continue reading Driftwood

How Are You? by Tyler Caine

“it’s the same question
every damn day.
doesn’t matter
who you’re talking to,
it’s always
“how are you?”
you know what that’s like.
it’s the common courtesy
to ask people
how they are doing today.
I get it,
ya know,
it’s the easy ice breaker,
the sympathetic greeting,
that casual
“see, i kinda care about you”
line that is the go to
conversation starter.
I say fuck that line.
Continue reading How Are You? by Tyler Caine

21 by Patrick Roche

One word for the introduction to this poem: Goosebumps.



21. My father is run over by a car.
He is passed out in the road with a blood alcohol content
4 times the legal limit.
I do not cry.
Four months later,
The nurses lose his pulse,
And I wonder whose life
Flashed before his eyes.
Rewinding VHS tapes
Old home videos
19. I haven’t brought a friend home in four years.
18. My mother sips the word “divorce”
Her mouth curls at the taste
Like it burns going down.
Continue reading 21 by Patrick Roche

If— by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
    But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise: