poetry
Tag
dead cow / Eddie / phone sex / Crazy Eddie’s
she grinned at us lying across the trail
eyes gone lips gone altho she wasnt killed
REVIEW OF GRAHAM IRVIN’S LIVER MUSH BY SOME GUY
Maybe I am not one of those people who entirely gets it.
Some background to my first parent-teacher interview
I hated bicycles as a boy.
sans serif.
my heart is an electric harpsichord
from back when i thought i was a roller skate boy and i copied a basquiat and put some of my memories of burroughs in the painting by anders andrew anderson, track 1, technical and the like
fading khaki pants
disc mouths
flicker ghosts
States of Residence
Your hair is that of the recently electroshocked woman
Who lives next door and watches television in her gowns.
A stroll / Nina, Viktor, Giuseppe / Who ARE you, and an epitaph
An ugly pair
He’s nervous she depressed
He’s playing with their two bottles of water
WHY WOULD I WRITE ANOTHER DAMN POEM! / BEAUTIFUL
Is anyone going to pay me for it, give me a couple of hours
with their body (if they’re a sexy young woman), or invite me
over for lobster thermador and a movie on their wide screen TV?
Somewhere in there, a killing / the damage could not fully be articulated
never wd
b
ok
No Hard Centers / One day when I’m dead you’ll be sorry I
Miss Hooker’s my Sunday School teacher and I’m going to marry her when I’m old like she is, or old enough.