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POETRY

The Will It Sell

· ADRIAN VINO ·

The Will It Sell

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Paranoira

· ADRIAN VINO ·

Paranoira

Signals suddenly hum with warmth, after many a sharp right turn, and then finally…a left one.   Passing low and then frequently oscillating, the paranoia that posits a world where someone watches you, the avatar creator, an entity—a man, a child, a thing a nothing—for fun you run, fading as you go, decaying nice and…

The Things People See

· ADRIAN VINO ·

The Things People See

A small number of people  have seen me cry An even smaller group have heard me say I want to die   I live now in a small town that seems behind the times The Los Angeles traffic no longer keeps me up at night   At work last night someone mentioned Manson bit the…

Writing The Rant

· ADRIAN VINO ·

Writing The Rant

In a double-dealing world of daunting dames and monotonous men, I remain, at least try as much as I possible can, devoid of duplicity. Hyper-analytical to the core, and constantly questioning with a seething skepticism—logic and science my pillars of persistence and self-preservation my torrid truth. Metaphor has constantly played a part in my life;…

Chimera

· ADRIAN VINO ·

Chimera

Blurring with candor–the badinage statically peeked in from a small portal to the other side Demigod of the demimonde, the idea delivered drained the rain that once teared down   Fever dreams betwixt the maternal thighs how calm and heavy sweaty sighs Slouched on leather couch manicured toe nails pushing up and how I tried   The…

Grave

· ADRIAN VINO ·

What atrocities had this aching angel of a fierce fall, turned to and tried and finally held fast all which she thought was good? The upside-down flames of red crashed against her pale and speckled shoulders, and she bowed with a curve and she hissed quite unhinged. It was a dance the way so maddeningly…

O Me! O Life!

· WALT WHITMAN ·

O Me! O Life!

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring, Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish, Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d, Of…

Face To Face

· ADRIAN VINO ·

Face To Face

I stepped into the tub and turned the plastic knobs to somewhere between lukewarm and hot.   The splashing mild roar of running water noise pacified my anxiety, and tamed a bit my tension.   With eyes closed and face down, I stood with arms outstretched, one hand on the shower door and the other…

You Is Fucking A

· ADRIAN VINO ·

You Is Fucking A

I’m looking out the window of a Greyhound bus and dig the dirty glass, the cursory cacti with its bruising blur, the waving and bending of the summer heat on the hellish horizon of Nowhere, Texas. My holy turquoise converse scarcely shield my gaping toes and wiggle inside the dried and dried again films of sweat…

Run

· ADRIAN VINO ·

Run

Close your eyes. Can you hear the night outside screaming your name in faint whisper–from somewhere behind a billion exploding stars. Where hidden murmurs tremble the cold still. Planets spin slowly and silently reserved and partially prurient–but not as we are, in their divine arrogance dormant and whirring like massive gears turning and doing an…