1.It was Chicago where they cut apart the way she walked.On the table pneumonia ravaged her body,And they hooked her up to this box that went,Chug-chug-chug-chug,And each time the little white plastic went around,Her chest went up, and down, and up, and down.This tube perched over her like a mother bird feeding the young,Without which, …
Continue reading “Sixteen Watercolors in the Western Tradition”
Truth though: Your diction lags,you ain’t got style to that flow,it’s 2014 and you’re tryin’ to one up Shakespeare, the beauty of all this is that the rules got broke,‘n more than ever we’ve got these fires to stoke. you’re shitty ass poets,and it ain’t for lack of skill,just vision. …
You feel like you’re shadow sliding,enduring the rough-shod reckoning,the pain you feel is so powerful, so powerful, Rum and coke was the first,Captain Morgan’s on my 19th,We drank and watched the Bruce Willis flop, Hudson Hawk.Him, his girlfriend, and me.He walked me home as I found inclines steeper than they should be.First drink was on …
I’ve spent these last few months living on borrowed affection.The beneficiary of lust-lewd thoughts I did not deserve.I even fell in love for a while.you keep asking me how old I am,and 22 don’t feel old,but to some, to some it is.You don’t talk to people,and chances are I talk to too many. But we’ve …
jump-cut,you ‘n me ‘n a bottle of whiskey, because you want me to be truthful. you want me to be truthful. truthful. when I met you, you offered me and our best friend some ecstasy, no, you promised it. we had just drunk ‘n smoked ‘n ran our way from bluff …
you know,it probably says somthin’ about my outlook– –my first non-confessional poem, –was about fate-failed heros, –not even tragic, just dead. –no rewards, no fame, just dead ‘n dark, –the sound of wind through the trees. course, now I’ve got these cyborg dreams,a woman who knows everything keeping– –everything from a child of nothing,sing-song …
{establish long-form metaphor} deep-sauna-sunlight drenched afternoon,when it woke,that bone-crack passion-snap deep-gut hunger,ass-to-crotch, nose-to-page.Moist lips suckling the moment’s teet,tasting the skin of it, smelling the lust,deep-pull thrust–thrust-thrusting to the quick of it. short-hair punk-dyed slight and musty thing feel that first spindle twine… {concurrent image} alliterate phrases come ejaculatory , slick-drenching themselves to half-mad stains …
{Around the Frame} “And miles to go before I–”/in haze grayed skies, struck with clockwork lightning/they too, they too, they too ask/how long the thunder rolls/crashing/breaking/sending too their skin to goosebump and too their minds to fear/in tired raw voices they weep. {The Footboard} And though I toss, turn,and shake,there is silence …
God and Jesus are at a bar,flirtin’ with the best of ‘em. Course, Jesus’ got that younger appeal,‘n God’s gettin’ a little jealous,as masturbatory as it is for them Catholics to think it. So God up ‘n smacked Jesus clear to next tuesday,‘n ain’t it just like the kid,he lit up and called it cool.(Oh, …
I ain’t over here tryin’ to be Bukowski,–ain’t put up with half the crap he did,–ain’t felt half the hate. That thick southern in those spoken word pieces,That’s an affectation I put on for the benefit of performance. In reality I talk the way that I write essays, and that’s my natural voice and cadence, …
