My Fabulous Breasts and My Furrowed Brow. |
I do not sulk nor sneer At the preacher when,His voice briared,He takes to speaking Of our mortal wound,Lowering us to the levelOf bovine, barbarian,Swaying through the slough of despond,And my smilin...
Posted by on Fri, 19 Dec 2008 18:54:00 GMT |
Unrehearsed. |
I have not dreamed on this pillow. In this sink I have not rinsed my hands of blood, in this bath I have not cleansed my body of mud. I have not been forgiven once and I am not twice forgotten. In my ...
Posted by on Tue, 04 Nov 2008 03:30:00 GMT |
Incest, from a Heart of Love. |
"The power of beauty and the holy rights of love are untouched by human conventions, which they destroy by their ascendancy, just as the rays of the sun in broad daylight purify the bosom of the earth...
Posted by on Tue, 30 Sep 2008 05:27:00 GMT |
The Passion Play. |
Welcome to the bloody fields.Here we are--Growing like blades of green.Spectator death is the dawnAnd ascendancy of the prophet,Conceived on nights of swollen apathy,A blister 'neath skies mad with ti...
Posted by on Thu, 04 Sep 2008 05:40:00 GMT |
Gone With the Wind |
Come slowly, ladies and gentlemen,To witness my sullen suicide.I bear the bruises of falling from heaven.I bear the wounds of a cultivated self-opression.I do what is neededAnd retain nothing unnecess...
Posted by on Wed, 03 Sep 2008 05:56:00 GMT |
Bloom where the Roots Grow. |
You truant rat - you exist in a particle of a recognized partiality - more virginal than I - more furious - Every word you have uttered - everything you have seen - every event in your life has lead y...
Posted by on Mon, 28 Jul 2008 08:57:00 GMT |
Scraps of the Prelude |
(Skip 1)I had a crate, a wooden birdcage, and so many splinters. I waited for hours. It would have been days, weeks, months, but there was always someone, something, coming up the stairs, knocking on,...
Posted by on Thu, 17 Jul 2008 00:47:00 GMT |
