My Huge Cock
it’s too big. the wrong size for such devilish delights; reserved for the undeserving. Humiliation at every turn for debasing desires, preserved for the undeserving.
Poetry
The Nut House
The ride to the psycho ward took eternities. I napped. When I got there, I looked for cigarettes. No one had any cigarettes – it was late, everyone was in bed. I found the ashtrays in the smoking room. There were 4 half smoked butts. I pulled them out, smoked each one with long drags, … Read moreThe Nut House
Konnte Schlimmer Sein
great poetry, so was von gestern. heute gibt’s menu: eins oder zwei wenn eins, bekommst du wenn zwei, kommst du; in aus rein raus I used to write great poetry. ich sorgte mich um posterity. für was? Der Drücker ist gestorben; long live the printer. hier ist gestorben; ein Trauerfeir jeden Nacht zu oft draussen, … Read moreKonnte Schlimmer Sein
More Fear Than Passion
“You gotta write your way out.” “The only way out is through.” dear diary, shit’s gotten fucked up, i can’t remember if I was playing and forgot to say just kidding, but now i’m on pills for reals… i’m seeing 6 doctors and doing insane asylums like i’m on tour; the crazies are the only … Read moreMore Fear Than Passion
the Dying day
were it not for the crying – always at midnight – i might sleep soundly. but the grief at the dying day interrupts dreams, denies comfort, evacuates breath, for we do not know if the sun will rise tomorrow.
Trumpets and Whiners
Trumpets and whiners, not lacking in courage make themselves heard, loud – never clear; Upperclass and dropped glass, vodka litters a powdered floor; remember when: we rushed through Munich’s door? What choices I have made, since I was not able to choose… for Frank, I hold onto a pair of shoes: Pistol Pete’s green and … Read moreTrumpets and Whiners
Everything Costs
watching fights, the blood sometimes drips like the faucet on pearl street, in mystic. and the drunks, determined are as likely to piss in the house as a new puppy. Sometimes they piss on your bed, passed out and unresponsive. hustling everything, the love, the compassion i’d sell you my dreams for a bottle of … Read moreEverything Costs
autobiographies are dead memories
Coming home, where ever it may be, Coming home, where love waits for me, Coming home, where dishes need to be done, Coming home, where life is such fun. dreaded arrivals and international gates… who waits for me, who waits for me, While i transport profits, hidden in jean pockets, who waits for me, who … Read moreautobiographies are dead memories
Rich Whores 2
the lies, the lies, the lies were mostly mine. and all i wanted was to fuck someone new. but desires are like tea: without water, it’s just a bag of shit to carry around. I look at the sleeping face of the whore in the bed and i know she doesn’t want any money because … Read moreRich Whores 2
The Loneliest Motherfucker On Earth
The loneliest motherfucker on earth will judge with all the vigor of a dying rattle-snake. Such hatred (Perfection) Perhaps the only perfection in life, in this life. For this, I would smoke cigarettes & drink coffee.