I.J Steinberg

The skin on her face twists and wrinkles. Form, fitting, fluttering, flying on waves of sound, As she laughs into my phoned in...

The tale of Brandywine is a simple one. But you never truly know where to begin do you? Nor do you know which grains of sand beat back...

March, What an awful month. The wind creaks, Thoughts of skulls falling off ledges then cracking on concrete echo chambers. Asylum walls...

Dear Mr. Beat, I write you in poetic poise to poison your perception with a great prejudice that has befallen you, See Mr. Beat you’ve...

Ingredients: 1x Garbled grey matter sponge, featureless, formless, festering in its own bland biology. 1x Empty skull, eyes yet to open...

Perpetually introverted lunar cycle scion, Seeks simple empathy, For an uncomplicated extroverted sunrise. © 2016 Jared “I.J” Steinberg....

I apologize racist white people. Yes to all of you. Form the confederate flag waving “if at first your don’t succeed” types, To the young...

You keep trying, To build something in your life. You talk of mad brilliant builders now, Maybe someday they’ll actually start building....

Turn Turn him from the rubber plastic pacing Away from white coated snakes with master’s degrees Away from side sending pinpoint...

I. So I Danced In It Swing swing swing Swing to the wind wound up to fires edge I was there when the dance began in fires cradle Plumes...

I hit my mother, I hit my mother with my car when I was 17. She was in her car when yellow eyes cooked the carrion on asphalt morgue...

Make a list a old fool and bold what’s important The spit now drips from your chin, On to the fine china stained porcelain and you laugh:...

Short answer, No. Long answer, Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, Do not touch me, You will not touch me, Touch me and...

Hello Give up now C’mon now baby Baby you can’t fight it, You’re going to keep on the fight, You’re going to fight your shadow. You’re...

Generations past run their elections. We hear their pointless, empty stories. We hear them fight and feign affection. Generations past...

In my pocket's pocket, I have a watch. Click, click, click, The dirty gears, spear on the quarts face of circular glass. Childlike he...

A tribute to Hamlet, Act III, Scene I To act, or not to act- that is the question? Whether ‘tis simpler to stay in the mind’s eye of...

I. Today I met a smiling man who had been everywhere that mattered, He told me he was a simple bus driver, hauling his rusted and...