263 17 8
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263119
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26242
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261135
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Death is both alien and intimate to us; neither wholly strange nor purely one's own.
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261145
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26186
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Shivers of desire,
bristles of knowing
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26132
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You can say words like "good",just not to me, I'm not in the mood. Ever sincethe fire extinguisher went kaput. Ever since yellowbecame red and orange became blue. Ever since thenews announcement that there is nothing more than carbon.Nectarous your…
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26043
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To the hem of Neptune and the soul of brevityand the dialects of drunken monkeys,sands diminish into sands, wavesdie imperceptibly, brace a hibernating time,one of mermaids always seenby the naivete of sailors. This is sea monster metaphysics.The Atlantic increasingly…
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25942
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2592516
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"What, you only like my funny stories?"
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25944
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I like to think of Bukowski and meknocking back beers in some downtown LA bar, Buk telling me some tale of ordinary madness (“Man, you shoulda seen the big old ass on her, I loved to hang onto it while we fucked.”) as I stare, nodding, at…
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25821
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25731
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Bury my wounded ego Mr Sitting Bull.Keep me from committing suicide Ernest Hemingway.Take me for a ride above the clouds Christopher Reeve.Fly me to the moon Frank Sinatra.Invite me out to dinner Marlon Brando.Give me immunity from Hollywood John Cassavetes.Keep me from…
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257114
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Christian Bell can’t sleep in/on the following: airplanes, car trips, couches, first nights in hotels, jury duty holding area, commuter train, work breakroom, tent, park bench, the ground.
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25611
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Conjuring white five-pointed stars. Irreproachable as Winter.Consonant with a new moon. Rising like an anchor.Not one to walk behind. No destinies touch your charities.None signal your transparencies. Shedding words like skin. Cantillating…
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25670
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A day will come when silence spells what nothing else could. It will come to feed those things no autumn can. And when that day is over we will go through a period of bereavement, pray we won't recover fully. Not everything is a…
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25585
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They say his irrational outbursts and insane rantsare the results of untreated syphilis. Well, thatmakes perfect sense to me. I've always thoughtof him as a tessellated spirochete, a narcissistic chancre,festering pustule of a blistered imposthume. And whywouldn't a…
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2551713
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25475
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253159
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25344
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I didn't arrive at the Wicked Spoon every night in the same mood. Some nights I would arrive under the spell of a generous emptiness, what I like to call the euphoria of futility. Not exactly a state of bliss, but a dazed detachment in which everything is so pointlessly…
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25231
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IA prophetic mile from the towering hill,tombs of ages lie.I open my eyes; I am stillin hieroglyph dreams of histories,nearby moans the sea, cold as usual, consecrated.Something created, destroyed,then in shadow, remade. The shore spouts forthold silence,…
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25275
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25053
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The idea that anything is possible only in the moment that it isn't
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250168
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25054
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When I stopped drinking,the desire to write poems was gone.Remember this to be true.The black dog still waits in the distancenot far from the fence.I watch it and open the sliding windowsto let the winter air run amuck through my kitchen doorengulfing me with…
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25021
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Rise up, carcass—march! / Naught is new beneath the jaundiced sun: / last of the last of Louis' gold, / light is sliced through clean / beneath flecks and films of time.
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249128
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24944
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As soon as I got the suspenders adjusted I felt different. I felt like Wilfred Brimley.
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24964
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This is what I am saying now.
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