Brian Eckert

Writer. Wanderer. Dreamer. Skeptic. Man.

Category: Poetry

A Brief History of the World

In the beginning were the Words.

One Man Army

I march onto the front lines of backroads alleyways suburban sidewalks abandoned parking lots carrying only what’s on my back My past a heavy burden an intense pressure a need to be free from alternate versions of me All who’ve come before me are dead all those to come will die But I am immortal […]

God and the Snake

God has never forgiven The Snake for being able to shed His skin

Homegrown

Work from home Fuck from home Eat from home Watch TV from home Pay taxes from home Vote from home Walk the dog from home Call your parents from home Marry from home Divorce from home Cry from home Scream from home Exercise from home Grieve from home Celebrate from home Get addicted from home […]

Today

Today is another chance to sharpen my teeth and flatten my bones and walk across the broken glass of my ego and be someone I’m not for your sake, for God’s sake, but not for myself, for goodness sake. That is not allowed. That kind of talk gets you the Death sentence. Again. Let me […]

Longest Day of The Rest of Your Life

Brian Eckert laments the summer solstice.

Corn Flakes

Fear Paranoia I can smell it taste it in the residue of my food see it in the gentle tugging of Botoxed eye lines The paupers resent what the clowns lament No one saw this coming except everyone and now they laugh blame it on the weather the age of aquarius a dead cat a […]

In the Heart of the Desert

Every day the same question: Why don’t I get in my car and drive straight in the heart of the desert?

Backroad Blues

The sun in my pocket won’t go down. How can I sleep? I cannot live like this, said humanity as it was borne from ash and bone and blood.   I want to drive the backroads, take the shortcut past your front porch, wave hello. The brakes don’t work. I cannot stop. I cannot live […]

Unholy Roman Empire

Don’t kid yourself, boy. You couldn’t handle it. Old things make you uncomfortable. A million of em just like you. Crippled midgets hungry for revolution. Thinkin America is just a fart on a string.