Ardor Empire

We built an empire

with pillars of love-base philosophy

and fortified foundations of amorous affection

T’was not built in a day

But destroyed, it seems—

in far less time than it took to create

--Preston

"Preston my boy, you need to dig yourself a trench."

My past month has been nonstop bullcrap of heartbreak and disappointment

and the fifteen-million mile road of metaphorical manure seems to stretch on forever

but thankfully God gave me spades for fingers

--Preston

Pining Lonely and Pine River Longing

 I wish I could look into the river and have my future reflected back to me
To see all what-ifs and could-have-beens morph into something more than mere possibility
I don’t want us to be a could-have-been
And if fate will never bless my vision with foresight
then I beg to Him to send me back to before it all went wrong
And if course correction is not in the cards, then I pray the deck can be destroyed; that every king and queen and clubs of paths preordained may perish beneath the twitch of His wrist


--Preston

THE INFECTION IS SPREADING

Thinning diaphanous patience with Increasing fixation to alter irremediable truths of the retroperitoneal  void; the black organic hole of misery that sucks-like a raven black laden reaper-from happy rooms of more fortunate men the life force that keeps them smiling

No soul alone can escape the great magnetic pull of this pessimistic human vacuum
for despondency is a contagion without comfort or cure and the infection is spreading

T     H     E                                I  N   F   E   C   T   I   O   N

I     S                                       S  P   R   E   A   D   I   N   G       

Heavy Headed Henry

Heavy Headed Henry—who has a different name—

I know how you must be feeling for I too have long suffered in self

and went down swigging when I finally hit Luci’s pit

which you know as rock bottom

I want so badly to help and tell you its okay

but there is no such thing as a reprieve

Not for guys like us…

--Preston

Liquorless Hangover

Slivers of pre-dawn light

slip though the plastic shades

of my musky motel

and shimmer about the floor

The brightness hurts my eyes

but I’m too drunk to do anything about it

--Preston