http://slow.writerscafe.org/roknrollvr87 The original writings of author Hollow Man en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776050688 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I sit here, somewhere,listening to Dirty Rain,reminding my handnot to ash on the carpet.'I'm proud of you' she says.I've forgotten--so many things.'but you just missed our turn'.All rain sounds the same--it's in what it hitsthat matters most.My heel grinds ashinto dirty carpet. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/1182111/ as honest as I can be. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/1177907/ When we were young, respectfully, we were like extension cords-your arms tied me, in wrestlingmatches, to muted carpet; you taught me uncle. Years later, the breath struggled between my wind pipes with your  fingerslike Rigor-mortis around my feral throat,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/896255/ The rain pelts us�" plasters our tattered work clothesto our bodies like aged drywall sags into the corners of a wet dumpster; yet we race the inevitable, hauling trashcans of broken ceiling and wall, two men each can, over the sides of the rusted five-yarder, as if the faster .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/706019/ Caution! Children Can Fall In and Drown! I found an old five-gallon bucket at the endof the day, that over the years bled it’s black into charcoal grey and I thought hard about what the father was doing when his child fell in and drowned in one just like it. I turned it upsi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/694761/ Dad taught me to crown studs when I was eightAfter I helped excavate the cross base with a sand Shovel and bucket for the addition to our home And I wanted to be an architect three years laterAs I dragged my tape cross the freshly painted wallsAnd scaled the feet to inches on his ve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/689900/ Days like this, have to work harder. Musclesstiff as earth and toes numb to shovels’ bite. Rolled an industrial heater beneath tarp, blue as heavenshould be; collected for coffee and prayed dirty jokes- Carpenter’s Carnival, four foot tall tent with open barand na.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/689895/ Today, in this instant, our thoughtsare irrelevant to an ever-expanding universe; our actions, insensible in accord with raw human nature; our dreary routine the death of poignant love. And so it seems the day grows longer as life comes closer to its finalewith moonlight lingere.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/686492/ What could have been but never was. This is a repository for the imagination of a carpenter that strayed from the course he may or may not have been destined for. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/677825/ You start the day whale watching with Jim, retire toSlapping nametags on those you can’t rememberAnd reconsider damnation through procreation. Those winged peasants fan you with palm leavesOn a day hot as Adolf’s smoking barrel while Janis slaps her harpoon, Bobby singin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/674012/ I should be half way into a sweet slumber, my tired arms wrapped around her warm naked body, oblivious to the darkness, shielded from the cold, obnoxiously happy. But that’s beyond any dream I can conjure. Those are empty words. There’s a reality and its name is Welcome to the Machine. I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/651643/ I'm crawling through the flooded depthsOf my mind, wondering, did we ever love,She and I, the rain and her watershed- I gathered sunlight to keep her warm,So she could sleep until noon,Strolled into the garden barefootTo dance in the dirt, to cultivate slow demiseBut i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/649296/ He’s got handprints on his chestWith finger-painted heart palmsAnd tender tensed fingertips-So it goes. He’s got a stale kiss on his lipsThat still hasn’t washed, Never will And He isn’t afraid of death, Held it in his arms,Watche.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/648848/ Music always ends in silenceFor the man who stands but to hide,Careless for all except memory,Her careless silence, head on his chestAnd that is how he wants it, how he needs it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/636042/ There are bodiless shadows With shadows of their own,Blood tearing canyons into hearts:They lasso stars into mud puddlesAnd dose with children in the park. There is pure sound without throatLaying into night as rain in cloudsOr feelings into funeral shroud,Dances with no one i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/634506/ I held you, naked as untouched snowSafer than love’s silence in winter breath,Slow silence, concealed as flesh to flesh Lain in life’s bare bed; Soft as SinatraBlue you pressed into barren polished seaTo see, be, silent at last, to be lost In secluded sunless lull, pressed .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/631456/ I see no reason to be, since I will always be,Something, nothing, to someone and no one… I am deep as the Mariana Trench. DrowningIn neuro-oceans. Burning, melting, moltenAnd iron cast. Bionic. Alive as ash glaringAt the past, shallow enough to chokeOn sun forsaken rain, oi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/628203/ This is the end beautiful friend, this is the end my only friend And I still hurt. My face is a smoldering pit, my heart a metronomeKeeping rhythm, a haunting beat in my headBut I don’t believe in this existence, or one after it. I don’t believe in time but.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/626740/ We are beyond where we should have goneWhere our throats choke on each other’s anger, The days turn to hours, the hours to minutes, the minutes to seconds, Burnt to ash and all lies in a title, “The End” My words kill, yet they never fulfill the feeli.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/626077/ I swear you’re not real. Like grinding knuckles against shingles, blood to dust,Cigarette and shingle dust lungs cough until the chest bruises,Weary eyes and paycheck palms dangle in nothing, Without her. It’s sleepless nights, raccoon eyes, cumless sheets,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/625260/ I stare at the wallAll day, all night. This is deathIn its most deceiving form: Placid plaster and stale paint,Cum stains like stoned eyes,An all-consuming emptinessDressed in human disguiseAnd naked for no one to see And this is death. You sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/625235/ Bite your tongue b***h as he shoves his eight inches up your ear- The desperate c**t Like a twelve year old with a wooden d***o,Bent over in awkwardness and unexplored solar systemsNo lube!F**k f**k f**kShe can’t feel anything in her…F**k f**k f**k Stuck in the clos.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/590811/ serious ventage http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/590802/ Because we are beyond brothers http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/583829/ Tempest love, your clover rest, belovedWith my empty eyes, strong weakness, bewilderedIn your calm, setting in your silence,Two bodies carnal like Neruda brilliance,Two souls twined into infinite knowledgeWhy do you reside with such paraxial dreamsTo be, it seems, light lost in the dark,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/583209/ contemplating love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/579297/ love, death, afterlife http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/578079/ Memory and desire http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/577338/ “Til change hath broken down All thing save beauty alone” http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/577334/ contemplation http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/571218/ To a friend, on Naso's epitaph http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/570576/ on love and life http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/roknrollvr87/570574/