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Ish

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The feline apotheosis of Ish - Shroedinger’s cat.

The Magic Trumpet

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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…

"Daddy, Can You Find the Cheerios?"

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Why, these were the young hands that I kissed only last night.

Thessaloniki Summer Visit

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What I learned/one summer/in the North East/Thessaloniki heat was. . . .

5 Poems In The Shape Of Other Poems

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the things we will accomplish, the things we will leave to others

Manifesto of ism

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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…

I Fall in Love Too Fast

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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!”

A Study in Plastics

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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.

Edward Ogle the Dickinson

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Hope is the thing playing checkers

Nanny

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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.

If Hell...

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the sour waft of a secret

Gummi Worms, Love, etc.

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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.

washing in the dawn

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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

The Black Madonna

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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…

Like 37 Hiroshima Bombs

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Once in a while I have the time of my life / in this god-forsaken Earth:

Me and Coleridge Take a Spin in the Phlegethon

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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.

The Ruined Person

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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 . . .

said the fury to the shade

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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 . . .

the long white cloud above my body

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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

Into the Mirror

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Her eyes still fixed on him as if to whisper her concerns of fidelity.

Luminous Nights, 7

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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

Black Friday Crime Scene

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Her name was Christine and she was nailed to the cross of their lust and their greed, and their vengeance

*cute little space bat with scissors*

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I AM A FIRE SWAN! THIS IS MY QUILT! YOU ARE MY QUEEN!

Gonadista Blogsdashiva

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"Shouldn’t I be able to easily get my arms around nothing?”

Noir vs. Noir

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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.

Every Headache

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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.

On Deciding Not to Be a Bitch

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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.

Edward Ogle the fourth

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Charted stars by the dozens / with a side of frizzle onions / dawn showers us with glitter.

Shovels and Honeysuckles

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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.

Deaf

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