"Where boasting ends, there dignity begins" - Owen Young |
A few words on boasting, a subject I meet with much despair and annoyance these days... First we practice sin, then defend it, then boast of it - Thomas MantonThe less people speak of their gre... Posted by on Sat, 01 Sep 2007 16:51:00 GMT |
out of breath and sweat |
running the same route as yesterday,the difficulty hasn't waned.push breath through teeth cold withthe frost and snow already arrived.breath like bellows to fan the firewithin my chest, below the ster... Posted by on Mon, 30 Oct 2006 15:36:00 GMT |
Mayflower to Sin City to thatspotweallforgetisthere |
The Las Vegas lightening was invigoratingmuch more so than the blippityblingblangdrone of monetary ignoranceand the glare of throbbing neonsthrough a rainspewn windshield.Monday morning in Vegaswas so... Posted by on Tue, 10 Oct 2006 13:43:00 GMT |
whatchu got? |
ain't got no fancy cheeseain't got no half and halfain't got no raingearain't got no boatain't got no down-riggersain't got no highway carain't got no bourbonain't got no king salmonain't got no march... Posted by on Fri, 05 May 2006 15:40:00 GMT |
tremors |
something runs through my nerves like mexican jumping beans trailinglong spindles of silk.At the end of the line,a slight wallowing, a hollowyearning for stillness and movementand novel remedies to an... Posted by on Wed, 15 Mar 2006 14:04:00 GMT |
worthless.... |
i am deadweight today
an electric body drained of charge
anodes cold and alone.
The rain came and stole all plans
for snowplay, drenching
the town in .....what's the word?.....
i can't even thi... Posted by on Mon, 06 Feb 2006 13:04:00 GMT |
awww, a love poem |
Love Revised
As skies flourish with the waxing storm on waning moon,
a sweet languor rises in my chest, warms the gullet bereft
of hot breath in the presence of you.
These poems are graspings ... Posted by on Fri, 27 Jan 2006 15:48:00 GMT |
Split Wood, not Atoms |
give me a maul of decisiveness
and a splittin round of sage foundation,
and i will change my swing on things.
i will wedge into my conscience:
temperance like a green log,
unseasoned for bur... Posted by on Thu, 26 Jan 2006 17:51:00 GMT |
damn anti-mac fuckers |
i tried to post a poem today on this blog, but since MAC USERS CAN'T USE THE FUCKING ADVANCED EDITOR, ALL MY POEMS WOULD HAVE TO BE IN PARAGRAPH FORM!!!!
Not that I'm against the occasional prose p... Posted by on Wed, 25 Jan 2006 11:41:00 GMT |
The Smell of Sex |
Yesterday thought of nothing but sloshing mouths, grasping limbs & clutching hands, flavor of repression released, and palms sliding down a back moist with the dew of transpiration-- finally. Thr... Posted by on Thu, 17 Nov 2005 14:35:00 GMT |