Ben, Cayce, Joe... |
On Friday, I got the news. And I didn't want to believe it. And, Ben, I called you so many times, just hoping to hear you answer. But you didn't. I won't ever see any of you again and that kills me.Th...
Posted by Pool, Zachary Tate on Tue, 05 Jun 2007 11:09:00 PST |
dragonfly- a poem. |
*Dedicated to the memory of Chip Ellis*A dragonfly flew out of MayAnd cried in June for a better way.The days have crept by with dissonance,So distorting the truth of this.I was never there and I neve...
Posted by Pool, Zachary Tate on Mon, 18 Dec 2006 08:02:00 PST |
on the day of her transition from adulthood to adolescence- a poem. |
Stand to curve away from the curse.You painted your palms and preyed on me,Leaving the traces cold and cured,Only clear enough to fuck and flee.There's desperation under your chest,Buried deep in your...
Posted by Pool, Zachary Tate on Mon, 04 Dec 2006 11:41:00 PST |
simplicity is complexity- a poem. |
Now look ahead, we march faulty towards city lightsAnd brim over with curiosity, killing our kind.It's a scar to wear warmly on skin,The kind that don't fade into tonal abuse.It's the hallmark and tra...
Posted by Pool, Zachary Tate on Thu, 23 Nov 2006 10:31:00 PST |
rust- a poem. |
Minutes have pulled us further apartThan hours could have ever tried.I guess when you find the love you huntAnd the prey turns cold and dies,You leave the corpse for vultures, outIn the open, under th...
Posted by Pool, Zachary Tate on Sun, 05 Nov 2006 06:10:00 PST |
sound the alarm, your brother is dying- a poem. |
Your handshake is filled with desperate knivesAnd your mustache keeps teeth behind which they reside.It won't collaborate with congenial smilesUntil there's a pocket beneath the carpetAnd gunpowder du...
Posted by Pool, Zachary Tate on Mon, 30 Oct 2006 02:10:00 PST |
pails of paint- a poem. |
These are my veins as isWith corrupted children in view.We have been blessed with phonetics.The dust fills our mouth with prosthetics.This is the life we builtTo collaborate like we're youth.Oh Mother...
Posted by Pool, Zachary Tate on Sun, 29 Oct 2006 11:57:00 PST |
statements of sleep- a poem. |
I could hear you breathe at night,You were tight against my arms For it was too cold to dance with starsBetween city bricks and cars.I felt balanced in unison Like a kite that flirts with cloudsBut ne...
Posted by Pool, Zachary Tate on Thu, 26 Oct 2006 02:24:00 PST |
self portrait no.2- a poem. |
Do you still collect criteriaAs if diagnosed with rhythm?Or are the windows that you're washingYour cold deliberate schism?It's the prison you built in hopes thatThe glass could keep it a secret,Only ...
Posted by Pool, Zachary Tate on Thu, 26 Oct 2006 07:36:00 PST |
q math dot- a poem. |
I could see the throne from the interstate,And the final bridge lay across my chest.There were two more exits,One more cigarette.But the towers were empty and freezing,Despite the heated vomit on the ...
Posted by Pool, Zachary Tate on Tue, 24 Oct 2006 08:39:00 PST |
