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On such warm nights when wet sex happens suddenly, please, remember the amaryllis. How they’ll push up out of the ground in August after the first real heat opens the air. I too was born in such weather.
Balmy nights when heat lightning beats in the
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A brief colorful season/
and then the fall as winds/
break the hold the leaves have
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Samson was also somewhat in hopes that his son Jason would become engaged in this minor capitalist enterprise and 'turned around' in his life.
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The only resolution I ever kept was when I said I wasn't going to create any more resolutions, and now I'm going to break that one.
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We were born here. At the top of the stairs underneath a painting of basset hounds playing croquet. And a hallway closet filled with lost someones. And the police, three times a week, singing nursery rhymes while walking up to our door.
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I see you’re wearing your tablecloth top again
your tablecloth dress to impress me
and distress me with all your tablecloth positions
for your luncheons on the grass
with all your famous friends
who found you on your ass
Yes we can
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It was in the good and strange middle spring and the rain kept announcing itself on the doorsteps and the railings of the town. As it bounced off of infrastructure and the top of eighteen wheeled trucks, rather than die little deaths, the drops found their way into the…
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It was that awkward time when one didn’t know if the night’s lover wanted to see you again.
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temporary objects of desire
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He almost died, but hasn’t been this much alive ever.
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Often I want to kiss their lips
Drink in every word they have written
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I drink the funeral in a dream. I give satisfaction in voice overs.
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Sorrow fences with fear and questions
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125587
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Did you really think you were going to cure cancer with that poem?
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FUN MOVIE TRAILER: 41 members of my family participated in a movie I co-wrote and shot with my wife. Have a look!:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wA7k2r81iXEHere's the 64 minute film-noir-style…
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It's not actually about blow jobs, sex, or coitus of any kind. You probably won't like it.
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On a Saturday I flew from murky air. My wings grown weak, I stole away from plundered nest, casual stings, and skillful barbs. In family's fold, I perch.
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After ten days in Jeddah, I start to miss the rain back home in Tennessee....
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125452
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The bathroom had exposed rusty pipework, A minty lemonade smell, Ice in the urinal, And a wall of stone-cold mirror. She put some lipstick on, but it looked fake under the lint-covered bulb dangling overhead. She wiped off the lipstick but…
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until i french kiss every atmosphere
my mouth ready to explode
like roman candles
sparking my fingers sparking off the tips
of my sparking fingers
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I wake up in the back of my car, sleeping amongst the junk and a steel trolley I had used to help someone move house. I feel for the door handle to let some of the cold, grey morning air in. I gingerly step out onto the pavement and my leg gives way as a cocktail…
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Believe me, I would run if I could, but there seems to be a low haze of molasses clinging to my ankles.
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For hours and hours she swirled, and swirled some more. She was trying to be there for everyone, yet no one realized how much pain they were causing her. Some of them had thrown invisible darts of anger all day, and she had endured each one, because she c
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How strangely perfect it is To see this man memorializedAn author, so I'll always cheerThough I haven't yet read his worksA secret perhaps best keptThe shame of an English major, the shame of a friendHow strangely perfect it is To read even the names paying…
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when I said good morning I meant
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Loving himself. Loved by no one. Loving no one.
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Females exuding from the genitals, giving life meaning, shape, cleanness of line, purity of spirit. They may form man as the honey moans out its salt song, solitary, its epic shout of joy, the sweet science of the human form.
Then to give back in re
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Everyman: I quit, remember? I’m in a twelve step program now.
Alcohol: Oh sweetie, that’s too bad, we had some great times together.
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Performed October 21-22, Gallery 263, Cambridge, Mass. Kathy-Ann Hart, the Hostess; Ryan Wenke, Ubu; Tyler Catanella, Alfred Jarry; the author--technician.
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He followed me through the crowds at Grand Central Station.
Wherever I went, there he was,
half my height, dressed in the characteristic gold and maroon garb,
with a paper cup of coffee in his hand.
He must have sensed something about me.
Th
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