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Your left hand cups your balls which are drawn up tight under a turgid fireplug cock. Your right hovers over your temple, thumb cocked at the cheek. Your eyes are dreamy, mouth wry, chest and belly furry and fat. You're a picture in a file on my desktop on which…
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113622
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My chin is half-eaten. My chest is gone. There is a rhythm to how each flame licks me. Like how you used to in the mornings before work. Before the coffee. Before the toaster. Before a rose clenched between your teeth and dancing.
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113522
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My name is Jacob Ellis. I was thinking about school and all those years and years and how they go eventually away but always remain somewhere in the mind as if imprinted on an akashic record. I was dizzy there, dizzy with dread and always on the verge of falling.…
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113500
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I’ll widen a wing out of myself, if you want. I’ll wash out the more volatile salts of man’s innate salt. I’ll awaken the milky sense the night sky’s made of, under Van Gogh’s heaven. Use the same salt wind sailing over all origin, the rim of the cup an
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113551
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It had all been for the children, hadn´t it?
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113521
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Hey Handsome Rich Kid / Do you want to go boink boink in your Benz?
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113500
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(Recently unearthed from a “Lost Luggage” travel trunk abandoned in a train station in Salt Lake City, Utah) Dear Seamus: Boy, we sure did enjoy having you as a member of our family all those years. I would have to say you…
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113510
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The empty faces in the crowd all mumbled...
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113521
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What the fuck is that smell? Puke? Pine-Sol? Oh shit!Back seat of a cop car.Again?What is it this time?“Excuse me, officer? Where the fuck are my clothes?”
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113511
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The funk of wet wool, stinky feet, reeking armpits, stale beer and fried food created a bohemian fetor.
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113400
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Long ago, when I was a child, like you, my grandfather told me about the wind.
He pointed to a willow whose branches were dancing in the breeze and asked me what I heard.
“Just the wind,” I answered.
He smiled and ran his hand acr
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1134139
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Our local low rent ice-based superhero said he’d had enough and would check back in early spring.
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113400
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The road to heaven is littered for miles with dead sinners, or more precisely, the sides of the roads are lined with crosses on which the sinners are nailed. It has always been so, since time started ticking for Civilized…
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113400
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We had sex, but hadn’t established a strong relationship. We liked each other as more than friends, but I was worried that Claudia was acting as a honey trap and spying on me for Dan Arris.
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113422
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...though in reality it is a dirty white with brown splotches now appears to him as a fluorescent green garden snake.
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113455
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"Where've you been?" the image in the mirror asked. "I haven't seen you since yesterday," she said.
"Yeah, I miss you too," he said.
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113420
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The crow in darkness;visual palpitationsunder the street lamp. In the dark morningmy car disrupts the still cold;a blister on earth.Never mind the cat.The Japanese Peace Lillywill steal your last breath.The blacktop highway;a rough scab to cover thedeep man-cut…
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113400
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I see it now. This is like the blind flash of the mind going off inside, where memory begins to make up its own stories. And the women are often drawn, painted, sung about, while the men are not, so often. What is it about us that they cannot resist loo
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113300
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It’s good to get fucked in the rain.
It’s good to get fucked in the back seat of a power boat on a river in the hot summer air with the mosquitos sucking the life out of you.
It’s good to get fucked with your bare back rubbing up against the rough bar
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113388
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The train station offers a pleasant atmosphere, though it exists as an in between place. People only come here to go somewhere else.
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113300
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Alice sat on the edge, her legs dangling in the void...
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113300
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I walked up to the bar and sat down on the empty stool.“You don't want to sit there,” said the bartender.“Oh? Why not?” I replied.“It's haunted.”I laughed, but then stopped when I saw he was not laughing with me.“You're…
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113342
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It is absurd to think that a cockroach will wake up one day as a human. And it is certainly surreal to imagine that a fat pigeon in Paris, New York or Rome, say, or even Prague, will one day take up a pen and begin writing poetry, or wave the wand of phil
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113300
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She sold bottles of happiness at the marketplace. She woke up at dawn every morning to capture rays of happiness in the air. She would jump and let her fingers thread through each ray before sorting them into bottles. She always added a red ribbon to the tops of each…
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113311
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She burns
her wrists with menthols; she says
it's too much effort to cut
them. Besides, it's
more fun.
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113333
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Like the miserable sledgehammer am I, with no adjective in place to praise your moon, you are a hole well-worn into my favorite hanging rock. I've only been able to reinvent this wronged language, in which being moved…
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113366
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the moment he started walking
my hands were given new tasks to do:
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113320
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Bring me your poor, your tired, your hungry
anyone skilled at evading highway tolls
Bring me your escape artists dangling upside down
in a straight-jacket from the sides of tall buildings
Don’t let them starve in the prisons of the world
Bri
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113300
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Aleister Crowley walks in and all of a sudden the bar's filled with angels and demons and pagan things. Wood nymphs and stuff like that. Wittgenstein, to his credit, keeps cool. He just stands over there next to the dart machine, pointing at things and naming them. Like…
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113311
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