screaming at low volumes
i’m making coffee, the laundry spins loudly, the dishwasher purrs. A man I don’t know has a tube shoved down his throat to stop him from dying. I complain at the disarray that clutters my apartment left over from last night’s gathering. the man wants to die but has no means so starvation is the … Read moreGitmo Hunger Strikers
suck on painted nails, flick beer off the end, just the index finger, long and dangerous till it points right at me: she says she knows me and the fear begins to dance around a fire set at the beginning of the universe that rests in the center of being. she’s dripping into my memories, … Read moreKennst du mich noch?
I want to invade your thoughts as you have invaded mine; I want to fill you full of me until i am you and you are me. I want to pervade your vision, your hearing tuned to my voice: commandments to dance commandments to expose commandments to slip into a white funeral shroud for a … Read moreAre You Sleeping?
we spoke in german, most of the evening. after the dinner, with too much wine i vomited silently into a toilet possessing more decor than I had decorum. behind my bent form, rolling twenties Jazz spilled out of the wall. Such is a price one pays for Society. I imagined the dance of the dead, … Read moreWished for the Executioner
we never die when it’s appropriate; instead, we linger to drag it all out. instead, we drape our wings over electric heaters, and wish the rain wouldn’t bother us so. the patter, the drip and roar of spring rains, reign in the desire to desire; our wings droop, our loss reveals itself; this winter has … Read moreSpring Doom
future, Leonard Cohen what would I do? The Dogg Pound, Dogg Pound Posse Unemployment stomp; Big Bill Broonzy Dope Head Blues. Victoria Spivey History (Repeats itself) A.O.S. You Can Have It All: Yo La Tengo Vanzetti’s Letter, Woody Guthrie Vanzetti’s Rock – Woody Guthrie You Souls of Boston, Woody Guthrie Please Be Patient With Me. … Read morePlay Lists of Poetry
french songs pervade the corner,a back-lit Everything machinederives a conscience from culture:the guilt of beer and sinlost the appeal to anesthetic, foisted upon the naive, the fatuously innocent.the bold wipe tearswhile the weak bloom shamesneaking hands into pocketsbetween hookah tokes.the dreaded love from whoreswon decisively over the comfortof familiar disdainuntil the sublime machinationsAddiction’s contortionscould settle … Read morelong street at six am
I remember being on the phone with her, knowing she had a little cock inside her; The breathing gave it away. She said, “… Please be True.” it was ok. There was a blonde rubbing my cock, whispering a mantra, “put it in my ass, put it in my ass.” I didn’t bother asking her … Read morebothering truth
Boulevard Papers are the truth to the overly Cultured. They describe a lost faith in Royalty and the Worthlessness of being alive. Our great culture of Free Press provides the Truth.
The tax man wants to rape me. I offered to let him fuck me, but they insisted, Rape is the Only way.