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There it was
One abandoned high heel shoe on the sidewalk
Could have been
Some kind of robbery
Though
Maybe it was just
The beginning of the
Walk of shame
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—A little blood puts some life into the work, said the old artisan smiling.
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"Did you see any action?" I ask, hoping for a story. He points to a scar ripping through the chevron on his left arm but says nothing.
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and then he began to sing, along with the ghostly villagers
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"At a bare minimum it deserves to be a major cult hit."
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Last week I heard that there is a new horror movie out about Abe Lincoln, with the plot of the film involving the tallest of presidents hunting down vampire bats with his axe while suspending habeas corpus, writing lame speeches about the freedom of man, restoring the…
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I guess you felt more comfortable holding your Moby Dick
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I remember taking you to see all these sexy movies because it really built up the passion in you. I loved what you did to me when we got back home after those movies. That’s when we were just trying out our dating wings.
I don’t know if you knew how
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temporary objects of desire
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In the neon light and barroom shadows,
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He'd always considered it his bus.
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for Tracy ThornYou don't need a song about fixed stars, you needa reason to be glad stars are here. Themoon's always been around, but not always like the friend you want,until now. Don't throw it all away becauseyou are too sad to care. You've come into your own. Allthings…
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when I said good morning I meant
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Monkey Business
Low Ceiling
Wagging Tongues
Guest Sweet
Murphy’s Law
Kinda Hot
Stopit!
Freedom Ring
Lumpy Oatmeal
Better Not
Butter Up
Grumpy Umpire
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Your father's remembrance and memorial would be inappropriate for me to attend. never mind the truth the searing…
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In the tumbled-down now there's too much material, culled from pretty boys that don't notice me and tattooed ones that do, and I'm certain there's at least one dreamer soaking eyes into me who knows all the twisted lyrics invoking pretty little horses.
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POETRY IS DEGENERACY / IS A DISGUSTING HABIT
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This was not a good sign, comforting gestures from strangers were bad omens.
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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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Gringovitch sat on the big leather chair in Olivia’s suite. Before him on a coffee table were the nude sketches he’d made of her earlier that day.
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an island hidden in the sound holds treasure
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I'm transfixed in Tower Records,all the CD covers dancinglike a thousand little TV screens.Your whispers a remote controlchanging those flickering images.When security asks us to leave,you drive my car as I slumpagainst the window.I close my eyes and transport usStar…
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The television was playing reruns of Mr. Ed, but it was hard to hear because of the flock of birds in the palm tree. I’d sometimes imagined the birds coming through the window, a swarming of pink cotton mouths, mawing everything in sight.
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Next morning the thought crosses my mind of snapping Mom’s neck, making sure she’s dead, and then running down to the sea to drown myself.
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His eyes begin to glisten like hot green wax pooling around the
wick
of a
pretty little candle.
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Mary had no shoes. She told me they were stolen by someone at the shelter and I believed her because she stood there outside the Arlington T stop in a pair of tube socks. She told me she wasn't asking for money. She told me the shelter was serving seafood today so her…
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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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