bio

art by tatiana tulskaya

Mike Dias is a poet born and raised in Northern California. At the tender of nine, he bought his first pen and wrote his first short story about pussies. He has dedicated his art to the essence of women ever since. He currently lives in Long Beach and you catch him every now and then at the Velvet Guerilla Caberet where he still shares fabulous fables of fallopean tube gooey goo gob.
lyongazelle@hotmail.com

Untitled

The madman on the corner
Gives into despair
And snacks on a child.
The mother at the window is
Struck by the mannequin’s essence.
The scream that travels the shoulders
Of random people passing.
The moment that’s snatched
And dragged on with the rugged wind.

copyright 2007 Mike Dias

Untited

Tarantulas crawl the constellations.
Shadows become pesky.
Quasars have delightful dive bars.

The universe is still in movement.
The mechanics seem to be at play:
The strings pulled as usual.

Boredom brings the necessity of an entertaining sacrifice;
Bring forth a lamb to go bah.
Bring a holder of chaste
So virginity can be gripped by divinity.

The crows rah, rah, rah.

copyright 2007 Mike Dias