• a.p. duvall

He made a vow while sweating and shaking

"You don't deserve forgiveness

and since you never asked for it

I won't give it

so there it is

We're over it

Can't believe such a small thing was all it took

if you woulda just listened

but no

the membrane around your

thoughts is nothing but six

dimensions of circular cunts and


spinning on a record player

for all the have-nots

once counter-wise then eight times

the other

with well told lies and the sprint

of the spirits in a spoonful of shears

Watch your ears.

Listen for the feeling

smell the third eye's sight

taste the honey from the ceiling

I don't want

I don't want nothing to do with ya

I don't want to want

I don't want to bleed on anything

Breathe on anything

Have anything

Say anything

I want nirvana without putting in all the work

I want exploding outwards

I want that last drip trip

I want release

and what hurts worse

With what meaning did you spit your curse?

What's the lesson here, what's the page number and

the verse

What hurts worse:

Feeling too much for the space you're in


Spacing too much in the feeling you're in

Either way you knew it was a sin

and you bound my name to your

papers and sent them into the embers

bound my hair to sage and ginger

and gave them to the fire

In every which way

I should've known you were

born too loose

born to lose

borne to St. Luce

born to a silver moon

boring to Laredo S. Gone

losing an election to a man entombed

and you wonder what's wrong?

Sometimes I regret the three times I married you

Well, the two times before this one, I guess

but this one's already not looking up

I still got a black eye from your mechanic

and you still got hospital bands on your wrists

Ah, fuck it

Those are my vows I guess

but before you get to say your piece of all this,

your brother still owes me for what he did to my


and your mother must return

the embalming I stole off the very

first Virgo

okay. let's go.


Recent Posts

See All


So, there was this mile long snake in my front yard. He'd been slithering past all day it seemed, and I could still pick out shapes of what the damn thing had ate. There was a wheelchair (sans owner),

Last Living Anarchist

Say hello to the last living Anarchist Say hello to the fast dealing switch Straight and narrow strayed the arrow and forever was he taught a glass and mutable thought in a subterranean husk mimicking

Golgatha in 25 km.

Twas 14th century China, and I was perched on my village's highest defense wall, looking out into the heavens on this one particular summer evening, when it happened to me. I was concentrating a parti

© 2020 by a.p. duvall.
  • Twitter