Throwback

Payment enough

I believe I have given up on doctoring my words to fit into stainless trays. My instruments may have dulled and I never disinfected, never shoved  my thoughts into an autoclave to steri...
Posted by Throwback on Sat, 05 Jul 2008 10:41:00 PST

Kansas

No one wants to live in the middle of this place or that place, we all move toward the fringes in search of something else, and in the end all goes south anyway. We gravitate toward the rain...
Posted by Throwback on Sun, 06 Jul 2008 05:12:00 PST

Dollar Store

The lady ringing up my stuff at the dollar store this might be her story i can dissect her like an insect from thorax to rubbing front legs put her under a microspcope grow her from her own excre...
Posted by Throwback on Sat, 05 Jul 2008 08:26:00 PST

Cupcake Manifesto

This is my manifesto.  See that boy over there? His jeans have no label and someone he lives with has laid their hands on him. His mother smokes crack and forgets to wear shoes sometimes. &n...
Posted by Throwback on Fri, 04 Jul 2008 01:36:00 PST

The Dust Sweepers (companion piece to Days of Dust)

I say that more dust collects on my doorstep.In fact it does but in measured kind.As my broom sweeps in horizontal linesit settles in mounds set on the vertical. It does this every day.I can...
Posted by Throwback on Thu, 03 Jul 2008 05:16:00 PST

Days of Dust

The days bring dust to my doorstepand no one else's doorstep.I can sweep endlessly and never clean enough.I might as well sweep from the outside in.This is a town falling down. The winds knock ur...
Posted by Throwback on Sun, 29 Jun 2008 03:08:00 PST

Gods Among Men

Four horses dragging a headless man.Locusts swarming at the crumbling dam. And when the levy breaks, all hell  will break loose. In the stained glass images, I saw warnings.Hands outstretched gr...
Posted by Throwback on Mon, 30 Jun 2008 04:46:00 PST

Quill and Ink

If I had a pen with a feather plume and an inkwell I would be a better writer.  I would use words like 'preposterous" and "voluminous" and men with feathers in their hats would come to call.&nbs...
Posted by Throwback on Sun, 22 Jun 2008 10:52:00 PST

From here

From here I can see the entrails of the old train stationwith broken bricks spilling out from its punctured gut.The hookers and the druggies don't look at it as they passbecause there's nothing ...
Posted by Throwback on Sun, 22 Jun 2008 04:20:00 PST

Going Green

There's a red light on every corner illiciting the sounds of screeching tires,  predetermining California stops, and making  little old ladies pause for way too long before t...
Posted by Throwback on Sat, 21 Jun 2008 03:29:00 PST