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the spirit of the dead watching. Gauguin

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Listening too much to the night, with its whistles, bright lights of luminescent bursts like leaves on fire, or the raised ear of a cow in the purple mist, or the curled tail of a pig foraging in the night.

Who's Better: Michael Jackson or Shakespeare?

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I looked up “tupping.” It doesn’t have anything to do with Tupperware. It’s Old English for screwing. Just like a professor–make something harder so you’ll get it wrong on the mid-term.

young salesman

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When I was young I bowed with such forgotten politeness, a young salesman, enchanting, in the silken trades. But I remembered the sun also when it was in Hades, which had forgotten to set, or to rise. Peace, also, dangled there by the neck. Such a pre

WHEN YOUR HULL HAS BEEN BREACHED AND THE HEART OF THE OCEAN IS NOT IN YOUR POCKET

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Her heart is the color of fuck. Not the color she'd imagined; the soft pink of parting lips, the fading hand print on steamed—up windows, like Leo and Kate in that fancy car the night it sank. His car was a dented jeep…

Arm

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As I was going into Wal-Mart, a man with a useless arm was coming out. I'd never seen anything like that arm—a dangle-flesh, rubbery thing with no purpose.

Tattooed Hands

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A 1960’s of walking sugar beet fields to remove the rogue bolters by hand and on other days painting the ironwork of cattle sheds with red oxide. Then a 1970’s when the self-inking explosion of tattoos on his hands and then his body began.

Moonlight Thru A Metal Gate

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Like sun-stream through a spider's web I came with nothing left to master, at least nothingtoo abstract. Like moonlight thru a metal gate I emitted what was animal, without ceremony, without fate, only the diagonal, only the hexagonal, only configuration. …

Sonnet II

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When gratitude on lovers' lips rings false/ As flattery by courtly sycophants,/ Take care to well distinguish gold from dross/ So as to gild gladder remembrances.

Doll Parts

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She’s always had one foot on a pedestal and the other in a gutter.

Flesh Alive

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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.

The Needle and the Damage Done

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“She never knew her, you know?” Chief Jack Gardner, retired, said to the duty officer absently, thumbing a well-worn photo in his rough calloused hands. His gravelly voice cracked a bit when he said it, catching his throat.

The History of Strands

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We cannot love the past...

77 Words - Barfly(s)

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Things that happened, were said, acted upon at twilight or later.

the musk and the drama

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Shame must search the soul, broken, original, with its primitive juices stirred. Moved until now only by the musk, only the stroll you lived with, the worry, the sorrow, the drama – may I never conceal or recover from it! Yes, I might beg or steal the

Extract from my Fantasy book

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Lucien ran through a burning vortex in desperation ignoring the cries of his friend. It was a flux of Satanic majesty. The floodlight of the fire was incredibly grim, but it did not hurt his eyes. Have you ever seen painted glass windows in a cathedral built by the…

Map of the World to Come

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The middle finger talks of many things How I killed the moon But still drank the moonshine And how getting over her took Some bleeding from the soul Maybe it’s the Inner Face of Outer Space That worries me the most But what about the Fro

Living in the Death Industry Could Kill You; The Q&A

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Q: Tell me briefly about how you got into the death industry.

Gabe

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“Damn!” he said to himself, wondering for the millionth time what he was doing in such a sad line of work. Break time, he decided, grabbing his stash box and locking himself into the freezing cold bathroom to smoke a joint. He emerged thirty minutes la

Stealing From A Corpse

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He kept one scarf. It was the scarf that she would tie around his eyes to play with him, long, until he was in his teens. A silly game that made her happy and he squirmed with delight until he got too old. She did not want him to see her, only to know if

don't let the flames chase you away

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my maddening pyromaniac,/ you're burning up my heart/ so open up your broad-toothed mouth/ and let me pour the ashes in.

The Adventures of Tequila Kitty: Chapter 3 - by Brian Lepire

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I’d made it to the motel parking lot when I heard the footsteps. A sombrero may make me look good, but it does shit for my hearing, so the bastards were able to scoop me up real quick. The first one gave me a hard slap on the top of the head with an opene

In Tongues

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Even as I moveTowards some form of true reprieve I can't make head nor tail of you Except when you speak in tongues In the dark progressive hills In the fields that freedom chills In the house Democracy built You will find a hint of guilt …

Mirrors.

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Pass frame.Avert eyes.If Ido look,I'm stillnot there.

Nesting Code

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scratches

Intractable

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~ ! ~

The Old Man and the Shark

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The shark’s voice was dark, warm and scratchy, like dying embers.

Can Bone-Munching Zombie Worms Help Fight Childhood Obesity?

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President Kennedy’s national physical fitness program tried to reverse the incoming tide of obesity, but for many it was too late.

For the Woman Who Has a Hundred

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“What would you get? What should you give a lady who’s one hundred for her birthday?”

Poetry, Inc.

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It comes to our attention you have what it takes to join our enterprise.

Autumn

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Early morning cokeBottle. Did Katie callHeiddegger "Skippy"?Remember years backWhen we studied so hard andHa ha, just kidding.As you age, neverForget you are dying noFaster than before.