Feast of interns |
You promised me we'd go horseback on my birthday I ran red lights in the destroyed construction zone I wanted to meet you in the clamor of airwaves I braved weak men to find an empty home I wanted to...
Posted by on Mon, 28 Jul 2008 02:42:00 GMT |
scarab in the sand |
Cellophane blankets in handcream latrines You'll sell all your memories for static black dreams You'll sell out, you'll sell out me Radish and carrot disguising the taste You fondle a flavor that can'...
Posted by on Mon, 28 Jul 2008 02:16:00 GMT |
Contribution from loss |
He is a red rock crab; I search but he escapes. I have been in the cracks. I have looked in the tide pool, Seen my quivering face, And felt the secret pincers stab. Some dreams don't come easy; My mi...
Posted by on Mon, 28 Jul 2008 01:53:00 GMT |
Frivolous Occasions To Reopen Scabs |
i haven’t posted any bloggish stuff on myspace for a long time because i upgraded to actual blogs. if you have any desire to read what’s been missing from here, go to these three:www.emerg...
Posted by on Fri, 28 Mar 2008 01:29:00 GMT |
annie’s battered logic |
Annie's Battered LogicShe fed her fears with fantasiesof glory and an urban sprawla wave of martyrs in a mudslidetrying hard to bravely falla battle for a broken heatin summer breezes whispers blowser...
Posted by on Mon, 10 Dec 2007 16:01:00 GMT |
MESSIANIC (companion to histrionic) |
I cross the land
Where lovers lie upon themselves in sand.
There's no before,
No after and I'm the One keeping score.
They must be blind--
But Who am I to tell them that their feelings are a lie?
Or m...
Posted by on Sun, 03 Jun 2007 03:39:00 GMT |
histrionic |
She's so keen on philosophy
That one day soon she hopes to be
The one they come for miles to see,
More read than old Dostoevsky,
But this September everything will change...
And come December no one w...
Posted by on Sun, 03 Jun 2007 03:30:00 GMT |
Hallucinogen! |
Well, Reagan left you in a daze
With Mercury up to your legs
In a tube of hot red liquid and cold war.
We wish that we could play guitar
Like Robert Smith or Johnny Marr
But figure out it's all been d...
Posted by on Sun, 03 Jun 2007 03:23:00 GMT |
Warhol's Waltz |
Last week I died,
But please don't grieve
Because I just might disintegrate
If you so much as breathe.
I have stripped car parts
Stacked in the front yard like postmodernist art.
Who says that ...
Posted by on Sun, 03 Jun 2007 03:14:00 GMT |
Pavlovian Anarchy |
I won't eat and I won't sleep--
Blisters popping on my feet--
Bet that they'll be coming for me soon.
Fourteen days of violent grays,
Passing out and kicking strays,
Hear the footsteps coming to my ro...
Posted by on Sun, 03 Jun 2007 03:02:00 GMT |
