103411
|
I dream about the boy in The Neverending Story, the gate of mirrors, and the Nothing, a dark cloud that floats in the sky, takes away everything.
|
14121
|
something inside me/ rises out
|
1400
|
|
22942
|
So why, said he, is she slacking...
|
144821
|
so one time the Holy Ghost come down to Stumptown
|
101433
|
As she slunk to her topless Mercedes
sparkling curbside, wax job hand rubbed
in Hamburg, testosterone heads turned
wishing similar treatment.
|
12621
|
|
119642
|
eleven seconds of infamy / brought to you by Glenfidditch /who the hell filmed this?
|
109894
|
I’m not / going to change you I /promise
|
1600
|
I live in the Grilled Pork Tenderloin
with Cabernet Mustard Sauce,
and she is a hard mistress if there ever was one.
So, go easy on me.
|
20382015
|
Arriving at the pier I see a sailboat in dead wind.
"That is pathos," Magritte says,
pointing to a barnacle.
|
1500
|
Mirror, mirror, on whose wall?
Now we can’t even play foosball
|
4500
|
only there must be no distractionand clear sight you'll have neither and still write
|
12120
|
waters hunger earth thirsts airs care not what fire desires this silence of the stars isa stillborn stalemate of loving hate there is nothing to…
|
152842
|
To write a good poem, one needs nothing but the whole intent of goodness.
|