Shut the Fuck Up!

Come into the Televisions!

Say whatever the fuck you want!

But shut the fuck up!

Here is a billion dollars!

Do what you want with it!

Kill each other for it!

But shut the fuck up!

Stand here and look pretty!

Stand here and declare promises!

But shut the fuck up!

Shut up about your woes!

Wipe your ungodly eyes!

We’ll give you a luscious mirage to dance in!

A luscious jungle!

A luscious safe!

In exchange, you shut the fuck up!


Shit Show Anthology now available!

Purchase this anthology of bizarro horror! More than a dozen horror stories and poems featuring that sweet excrement that comes out of everyone’s asses! My short story “Ravioli” will be among the features stories.

Porcelain Doll

Glass skin. Thin rope blood vessels.

An existence Fragile, Malleable, Breakable

creating pieces never picked or cleaned

shards cutting her fabric dress until every pore and vein

spills her stuffing

onto eyes of those trying to remember.

Shit Show Anthology for Pre-order!

Click the link above to preorder the Shit Show anthology, featuring my first bizarro/horror short story “Ravioli.” It’s an Italian gangster story… with shit. To learn more about what the anthology contains, and a bit behind my writing process of the story (along with a bunch of other nonsense about this fucked world), watch my recent podcast show with The Deadman’s Tome available for viewing on YouTube.

Don’t forget to subscribe to my blog and follow my Facebook Page and Instagram account for more future updates on my writing and other art projects!

Black and Pastel

Black because I am crave to capture the conflict of man like the constant expansion of the devil’s shadow. Black because I want to create human mass extinction to bring back a non-existent Eden. Black because chaos and disorder are my favorite art galleries. Black because the universe drive people to suicide with its silence.

Pastel because animals haven’t inherited human sin. Pastel because sometimes I get afraid too. Pastel because green is more precious than gold. Pastel because there may be a handful of lives worth protecting from the fire I started. Pastel because maybe I do like some pink here and there.

Death is an Art

Etched. Carved. Glossed

with polished firearms

Signed. Kissed. Polished

with gleaming knives

Revised. Reworked. Reviewed

with warm-blooded hands

Imagined. Created. Conceived.

with illogical traditions

Ode to Proud Pessimissm


I’m excited for the devolution of man. I’m happy to watch the greatest accomplishments melt into a lake of poisonous mercury for everyone to drink.


A spectacle. From the smallest waves of grass blades to the most heart-throbbing grad explosion of supernovas. A spectacle. I’m tired of watching.


Disgusting. Abhorrent. Unredeemable. Seven billion liesĀ  told. Seven billion secrets hidden. Seven billion murders. Seven billion executions. One life or two to consider in the heart. An Eternity to wait for an end that will never come.