Author Information
Lady Turpentine
In cold sickness she is
seen silhouetting chimney stacks
hugging them as she crouches
as her knee pads reach her ears
Wanton Dark Angel
sherbet dip falls through
five stories of midnight
smiling rainbow
rain drops
Red dread - lock matted hair
blood stained candy floss
to the waist
sometimes entangles in loose
sharp pin heads and ripped tartan
Each goosebump on the twilight skin
a footstep on rooftops
of a motherless city
She keeps an eternal eye liner ring
around the circus of her eyes
which have seen few winters
but have known them
She keeps a tartan skirt
and it hangs like a broken umbrella
over that coquette dangling rainbow
thigh socks
The sickness feminine sees
each streetlight from the roof
a neon blood prick crying
oranges
A Fagan to the lost Drunkards
of inertia who love the city
who's buildings are shadows
Eats gin eats what a child is
thru Satan or Television
is not born innocent
Become innocent thru
stumbling back and tripping
over the skyline
Lady Turpentine stalks the
rooftops and believes only
in lust and envy
at night small mutated streaks
drip thru of humanity
hiding under the covers
and she watches them burn
in the dark their
light her splendid heat
Yes she loves the city
but what love today
flows thru plastic bags
hot with black blood
Sometimes her love
beats down like a fiery moon
at midnight a dark thing
the love of Lady Turpentine
Vodka blood salt lipstick
brittle feline fingernails
to the quick
Lays drowned at the bottom
of a mirror
A requiem for you now
Lady Turpentine
ashen kiss in this neck
of the woods
who stalked dark landfills
seeking forgotten childhood
blankets stained with
tears and earthworms
Forgotten promise of
adolesence
to never
ever die like them
To be known
die Lady Turpentine
drown in intoxicating
eddies of youth
fall of a chimney
America will take you
Europe will take you
the brown countries have
different tastes
An eternal t shirt
Oh counterculture
worry not she
still walks the sky
to mute the senses
and find a splendid
hidden world
neon crimson in black
she walks the sky to
brood over cut knees
and the choices we make
A beautiful life full of blood
or a moth burning
in the dark
