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Did you really think you were going to cure cancer with that poem?
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Detective-Sergeant Claude Mulvihill sat in his squad car, which was parked on 54th Street in front of Bright Star Recording Studios. He had just finished the second of two jelly donuts and was spiking his coffee with three packets of sugar.
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The river was frigid. Branches, empty cans, and used condoms float past me.I lost my jacket when I became snagged on a tree branch. My shoes are gone. My skin is blue-grey, as are my lips and fingernails. I've been face-down in this river for two…
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of anything if that's the way you feel your love must go down, off its last nut before the big victimizing crash of the end of days and flowers. But watch out for thosethorn bushes that grow from forgotten holes in the ground.…
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His thoughts drifted to when he was a kid, to the monthly trip to the barber.
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Whisper salutations to your irises
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There is a false dawn,
when night still holds sway, but tempered with promise; anticipation.
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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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They borrowed birds from the trees
And forced me to sing along with them
You could say they made my heart burn
But we all know some of that was fake
It was a direct route
From sleep walking
To sleep shopping
To this
I guess I lived a
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each vertebra is a golden cavalier, brave in upright vigilance; stoic heroes.
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There's one graveyard for the part-timers and another for the full-timers. Ours is a little nicer, but we're still all going to hell. Do you remember St. Petersburg? No, you're memory's not that good.
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There is something preposterous /
about existing in a universe so vast: /
Such a big playground for such tiny children, /
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It was the most prestigious cashier position in the entire state!
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Jack Krackenthorpe, Director-General of MI-5, sat alone drinking tea in Lee Ho Fook, a third-rate Chinese restaurant in Soho a mile from his Curzon Street office.
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Words reach out of my mind for paradise. And come back with rocks.
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I wonder what it would be like to dog-paddle in the middle of the ocean.
I wonder how Jean Auguste Ingres got the flesh tones for “Odalisque.”
I wonder if bees have dreams.
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“Honorable condominium association members,” the leader begins. “I apologize for not having a PowerPoint slide show tonight, but me and my muchachos travel light.”
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I find Vermeer and Bach and feel/
for a moment a shower of my own world’s/
prismatics.
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It began with the waffles, well first there were the potholders, but really the problem was the waffles. I don't even think she knew she was making waffles; much less that she had lost her potholders in the trash can the day before. But nonetheless the real issue here was…
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When I was a boy and just out of seminary school, I went to a Doors concert and heard Jim Morrison sing his song ‘Soft Parade’ – it changed my life.
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As we follow the trail and things snap beneath our feet, I tell myself that the snapped things take pleasure, find purpose even, in the sounds they make with my soles.
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With the sudden thrust//
of April green, we can forget/
our drought continues.
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the gambling priest stands in the morning fog/red moon hangs in the sky/the army of seven houses marches over the hill
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never have i wanted/ to stay in one place long,/ flight inspired to escape/ existential ennui--
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when I said good morning I meant
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“Outis of Utopia” my found name! / I'll inscribe it soon as the tide goes out.
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I realize that to say, "I do not believe in God" is footsteps away from "I do not rely on God" and "God left me."
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I was in a bar waiting for a friend when two ugly women sat next beside me. When our eyes met, they gave me a smile. I smiled back out of courtesy. I wasn't in the mood to have a conversation not because they're unattractive, but my friend was horribly…
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