A poet with no poems is still a poet, but they are an unread, unheard, poet, which to a poet is worse than not existing at all. At its most simple, poetry is the act of someone trying to tell someone else something. Its most apt metaphor is someone trying to communicate with you in …
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Untitled #567 (2014)
His hands feel amazing.I don’t think there’s a place they haven’t touched.I could love like this. Didn’t grow up with polos, more than one suit, hundred dollar shirts, pants with holes in …
Untitled #565 (2014)
“It ain’t moonlight kid.”Tom drug me through the muck ‘n mire of the Mississippi. Water soured as we wandered into the Arkansas Delta; old bones ‘n guilt clutchin’.As it occured to me that I was drowning, flashes of history began to ooze up from the river-rocks. A first …
Untitled #56 (2015)
you are a beautiful women in a hazy bar,cigarette smoke and spirit fumes lazily circle your every movement. You’ve got this whole room eating their own fingers. ‘n I ain’t different. Been writing you indifferent lyrics, ‘n you’ve just laughed that earth shaking low register chuckle of yours, more jetengine than Audry Hepburn, more hurricane than …
Untitled #560 (2014)
Look, it’s just that I’ve got these scarred and weathered hands,and you’ve got all these habits I can’t stand.
Untitled #561 (2014)
The goslings have got their flight feathers in.You can see them in those not yet flights sometimes.Soon the scene’s gonna change,you’ve got Dogs Eyes licking through those lyrics in that guitar bawl, minor tone reverb, big blustery Wye Oak sound.Taking those first few flaps,we gonna soar, or we gonna be sore?That one-two-ohnoican’tdoit heave. …
Untitled #558 (2014)
I looked out and the stars were beautiful.All fizzled-pop and lightning shot,blazing in that lightspeed inky, inky black. I watch as the wormhole slowly pulls the ship to infinity, atom’s unable to cope, no matter the bonds. I can …
Untitled #559 (2014)
I’m tired.And it’s still such a long way to go. such a l o n g l o n g w a …
Untitled #554 (2014)
I’m sloshed over,flung over the bounds of my glass.I want, I want, I want, but I ain’t in a giving mood. I can see the problems there,but I ain’t doin’ a thing about ‘em.
Untitled #556 (2014)
I care about music more than you,not that it’s a knock against you, darlin’it’s just the music that’s– the head-nod heavy sway, the soaked up sail through vibrant waves. And no, no way.You could ever hold a candle to that.Not a knock against you,But damn …