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hands slide into gloves unseen / eyes disappear behind glass / the crank turns the flywheel spins: / every octave has droppt low / sub-sonic shudders within—
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far beyond the far beyond
sparkles the stars like sparkles
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On Monday, May 7, 2018, at the age of 67, I had a stroke.
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" If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stomping on a human face--forever." 1984, George Orwell
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124564
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We made a plan to see each other to chat more and so we did. I went to his little house in the neighboring town and walked in to a kind of time warp. It was a large living room, made so by it's emptiness. It was stark in the vastness it seemed, but dark.
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"If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor."--Desmond Tutuand all the animals are migrating away from us. That can't be good. I can't breathe and the moon is on fire. I can't breathe and the ground is starting to rise…
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James Hubert III sat at the bar. It was late. His wife and kids were long in bed and he knew he should be, too. But with the Lovelandtown lift bridge stuck in mid-air, a drink beckoned him. He sat next to Vince DeSantos, a small, stout man, with a bowling
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Two weeks later, on his way to a neighbor boy's house, Tim sees Tony on his way to the nearby convenience store.
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First you had to have been there
Because the air cleared up
When the world stopped driving
And the plants bloomed
Bigger and brighter than we had ever
Ever dreamed
The sky was just a brilliant, pure
Blue
Like when God was born
Now fo
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I’m leaning into my freedom and will have you take your portable prison with you and you can set those four walls across town.
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Randall had created Raoul to enjoy the freedom of being another person, but this became his second life crisis.
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Licking bowl and spoon taste and foretaste follow.
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In the evening the curtain recounts its day. Faces, images, incidents it has observed from the window. Its voice is nuanced, modulated, quivering, for it is made of lace. It appears to crochet its words with needle sounds. My eyes, during confinement, are not wide open, not…
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It was just her way. Slightly down and off to the left. Mom never looked anyone in the eye.
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My father taught me how to solder and that's when I first started to write. Now, when you hold the soldering iron in your hand and depress the trigger, the tip of the gun heats up. Novices uncoil the solder and place it on the hot tip, but that just results in it…
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Snail ooze and bull semen
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For example a comet hits the earth and everything is on fire is the kind of changed change that can really disrupt your change management and change your journey of change into a running away.
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Are you interesting?Are you clever?Are you, maybe often, sometimes never?Are you shining? Pining?Are you glowing?Are you worth knowing?Are you a life without zest?Are you mainlining strife …
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Amused yet? It doesn't matter and that doesn't meananything. But eternity in hell is just another knifethey use to keep you looking in the wrong direction. We can have fun. Please don't let them break your heart like that. They do their jobs because they no…
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The space heater whirred in the lonesome room, the giant, square window bathing the room with moonlight, and Lawrence sat on the naked particle board and ruminated upon the vast importance and significance that this very room would lend his mega-empire of a business which…
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The End of Civilization as We Know It
Question is, how many carpets did you see flying in close formation?
Question is, which hand would you use
If you were asked to choke yourself for the sake of civilization?
The real question is, if you could
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“Okay, here is a wild idea. Let's each choose outfits from the second hand store for the other to buy and wear to a bar for a drink..."
Famous second to last words?
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Gnarly Berger was born in a guitar case in Istanbul. His mother was an Iranian singer from Israel accompanied by a Turkish santur player & a French guitarist (Gnarly's biological father) and into whose guitar case Gnarly entered this world, somewhat by accident,…
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...the bulk of poets are amateurs.
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in clotted abattoirs where Sorley saw: / no animals shorn of their skins and flesh / could spy with envy the men killing them.
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I'm complex. You're complex. We're all complex.Who gives a shit? Man's fallen and he can't get up.I consulted Jacques the Atheist for advice: he toldme to beat it. "But I lack the proper stigma!" I cried.Once a month, I volunteer at the dressage parlor.On Tuesdays, I…
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But even if the truth
Never sets me free
I'll know this ain't the end of me
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as an artist changes religious lore, it was not god who ordained the death of his son
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