Elusive Fool in Child’s Pose


Sore thumb in the midst
the proverbial elephant which
cannot find a place to sit
its girth has nothing left to do but stand
in the corner, swishing its bushy tail
annoyance. Waiting for someone
to acknowledge its existence.
the gory thumb pulsates, it’s tiny
capillaries burst blood clot galaxies
leaving their mark
stardust on the palm and index.
When the saw and hot iron come
To amputate I will be delighted
And I do not want reconstructive
surgery I think festering wounds
are rather romantic, keeps it more
truthful in the visceral rot.


Dancing with the Devil


She sings, singed tongue to cheek
Salacious lungs engulfed in flame retardant
She thinks, if I step here / he there I can out master

Those movements which mislead to tempt

But the devil does not care if you step on his toes
They are harnessed with steel, colder – still smoldering
Like a thousand knives at the pyre.
The trickster delights in capturing light, his evil


The lens of a camera, rod and cone shadows

The devil do not change, only you.


Debauchery with Love for sale


Eviscerate Good Taste,
Cut out the heavy tongue,
In it’s budding place,
Sow in Modesty (a sort-of castrated) Honesty
For all those who take indecorous needle and thread
Into their own sloppy hand, and separate with the Hastiness
of a Man well bred though not quite read on such carnal

Banal realities

as if piece by piece,

he begins severing out

the Parts of Her
which had previously sculpted His
Private Ideologies, a premeditated design,
An epicurean blue print for all

lowly Desires.


Fixed is the serpent’s divinity


Creative until death
Refined Mongrels
Defined by their primitive nature
Are inclined to subversive coercion
Lucrative tongue to cheek speech


Gravity Inverse Time


tick tock said the hour to the minute
hurry before the wormhole comes
i will not be rushed! said the minute to the hour
the second giggled, the minute always took its time.


Something has broken


some thing has broke inside of me
the tinkering is a rattle
the pitter patter is droll
the tear has found its own origin
devoid of the synapse or frontal lobe

I am not sure where the Soul has gone
there was no sad letter left
Empty kitchen counter
of my subconscious has said as much

Perhaps it got milk and got lost
How unfortunate it is to have loved.




birthed upside down, breaking down barriers
just for a fresh breath
the umbilical cord of love strangles,
leaving the right brain holding its oxygen
like a water jug, from river to mouth.

999119_213096488854160_153390063_nMarissa Mireles, also known as Sans Serif, is a filmmaker, writer, and political activist residing in the US. Marissa has been writing since she was very young, deriving much of her talent from the constant downpour in her childhood town Lakewood, Washington which thrust her into creativity. She has self published two books of poetry & prose and is now working on a feature script, a novel, and a translation of Jules Barbey’s “The Old Mistress”. Marissa is an actor as well and has been on CBS, MTV, Univision, Telemundo, A&E to name a few. Marissa has also modeled and is featured in la band Dream Panther’s music video “Chutes and the Ladder”. Currently she is preparing for travel to Haiti to shoot a short film about children living as Restavek. You can find out more about her on her websites.