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The feline apotheosis of Ish -
Shroedinger’s cat.
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I gave my trumpet case to a girl named Sophie; she liked the velvet inside.She still played with dolls;they would live there,in the dark away from the world.Safe. I was a terrible trumpeter;i missed the high notes in band, squawked like a chicken.I strapped the trumpeton my…
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Why, these were the young hands
that I kissed only last night.
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What
I learned/one summer/in the North East/Thessaloniki heat was. . . .
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the things we will accomplish, the things we will leave to others
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We walk though the streets of London, New York, Paris, Prague, Barcelona, Skegness, inhaling air heavy with metaphors, eyes set alight by the microscopic pyrotechnics of quotidian symbols hitherto debased by the outmoded conventions of a bankrupt civilisation decomposing in…
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1460 4 2
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It was Wednesday, the papers had a food section that day, so the gap-toothed news hawker at the mouth of Winter Street would yell out “Foozection! Foozection!”
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She sat Indian style against the strawberry tree. In her hand she held a little mirror and a note that her father left her that morning.
What a night, eh? See you in the morning.
That’s what it said.
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Hope is the thing playing checkers
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I remember the days when my brother and I would walk down Tillman Square, careful to avoid the cracks zigzagging along the ground. Well I did. My brother made a point to step on every one.
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the sour waft of a secret
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It was R who embodied love for me. We’d eaten gummi worms in the park, held them up to the sun, yellow and green and translucent. When we returned to her flat, they were everywhere. I’d never seen such a thing. They hung in the air, these gummi worms.
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Here and there a few bits of beauty, with the highest respect, reverence, erect with pride. Almost twice a thousand dawns, ten thousand in intimacy, the breasts, the nipples, means of the world to nourish itself, by the intimate bay.
It's almost pun
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They say I am filthy. On this high pillar I perch like a stuffed avian relic, flightless, no prey. The horizon before me is broken by scuff and foreign tongue, by atomized evil. Pleas, and there are many, are answered by the only prayer I know, the one prayer, which…
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Once in a while I have the time of my life /
in this god-forsaken Earth:
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Like so many high school drugheads I warmed up to Coleridge because he was an dope fiend. If you want to get young men interested in poetry it helps if you lure them to the art through controlled substances.
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The pit of my stomach was bottoming out, this lurching sort-of feeling one experiences when one has coasted WELL OVER an abyss and has no way of finding one's bearings . . .
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let competitions in crime ensue
let every madness bring
let every sword be drawn
let every furious rage flow free
let anger know no shame
let all blind rage inflame . . .
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Butter me up, moon lover. Remember, I was once your warm and hot goddess of flowers, washed to shore with the others you may have forgotten. Now the issue of the earth gets nearer, and we can see each other once again, if only in our dreams.
Just be
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Her eyes still fixed on him as if to whisper her concerns of fidelity.
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Robbie took me out to Fox River on his father's ski boat one day, as he often did — but this time it was my eighteenth birthday. That was when he opened up his robe and showed me all there was to show of himself, begging me to make love to him, saying h
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Her name was Christine
and she was nailed to the cross
of their lust
and their greed,
and their vengeance
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I AM A FIRE SWAN!
THIS IS MY QUILT!
YOU ARE MY QUEEN!
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"Shouldn’t I be able to easily get my arms around nothing?”
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You're sitting in a darkened theatre with Gothic ceilings and one exit watching the latest Alan Ladd film with William Bendix and Veronica Lake.
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It’s possible that you’re dying. Every headache a brain tumor, your friend once said. You laughed then. Now you begin to see what he meant.
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Deny yourself that pleasure
For my sake; that feeling beyond measure
That you get when you finally, and with much angst,
Decide not to be a bitch, to a round of general thanks.
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Charted stars by the dozens /
with a side of frizzle onions /
dawn showers us with glitter.
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When she would leave my pillows still smelled like her. I would just inhale her for hours afterwards, sex and honeysuckles.
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