Books
-
Fine Meats
A cool, wet street The sound of tires splashing through the rain One lone car up the road, toward the hill, and the gray church that stands there at the top like some great Lord of life, overlooking the world Neon glowing, gold and red, reflecting A butcher shop on the sidewalk Fine Meats it… Continue reading
-
This Mortal Coil Corridor
Etching dreams now I make my own wounds In the bar until dawn Strangers abound Scattered among the tables Pool sticks stabbing at pool balls The unmistakable smack Upon the green carpet I am weary of life But still I march This mortal coil corridor I sail the seas Of this misshapen world Odd heads,… Continue reading
-
Thunder Owls
With a book to read and a bite to eat I plagiarize my wounds The stone archway is a shelter from the rain Through Old England searching Voices arguing in the distance Clomping hooves on the bridge overhead Yellow lamps Their light desperately reaching out Through the bursting torrents of water Thunder owls howl through… Continue reading
-
Vagrant In Hell
The psithurism of the autumn forest flutters as the madmen of the otherworld profit from global uncertainty. I drive the point of a walking stick into the ground and take a breath or two. Eyes gazing outward and around. The forest is wet and orange. The trunks of the trees a slick black and gray.… Continue reading
-
Bread Storm
There’s the ache of rain in the air Releasing me from this summer suffocation Lightning bolts burn shocking tattoos into my skin A frozen anchor, a blonde devil I walk barefoot out onto the street All the way to the grand palace librio on the hill I pick up Hemingway’s shotgun And carry it around… Continue reading
-
The Cloud City of Nashville
And there I was, raspy as a ghost lost in time, so drunk on the night that I tried to put a pair of glasses on over another pair I was already wearing. Earlier I had been in the bookstore in the cloud city of Nashville. I saw the metal and glass buildings—squares, oblongs, towers,… Continue reading
-
Passages
Harpooned harlequins cascade like dominoes in the limelight trick of light down on the piccadilly row of southern Santa Monaco and the bow rips and the cow tips and the fringes of a mad mind unfold like warped bric-a-brac on a magic store shelf in Sicily comatose gold rope lassoed by Cowboy Bill and his… Continue reading
-
Tecumah (End)
Two of the chairs were empty, but in the other chairs sat three dolls, all with cracked, odd faces and dressed in torn doll clothing. Continue reading
-
Bong Clerk
I felt a Rikki Tikki Tavi ghost ship cut through my spleen as I walked across the lot and into the shoppe. The place smelled of incense and painted wood and old linoleum and lingering clouds of grass. Continue reading
cereal after sex 