Tuesday, January 15, 2008


A TUNE

Something was hungry in me, and I denied it.
I proved I could outlast the snow and the outrage.
Grasping the frosted bottle, I shouted, "Fuck you to hell, Jim-Lee!"
Strung some piano wire between my teeth,
strummed a tune on it, at first cheerful, later a dirge.
Got a cup full of nickels for it, because people
like to be reminded how quick the turning can be.
-

Monsters

  • (no title)
    Tattle-Tale Nation
  • (no title)
    LONG PLAYING The just-past-full moon parsed and dissected by black tree branches and a screen window open to a taut Spring chill on t...
  • (no title)
    THE DEAD ARE THIEVES, TOO They’ll pick your pocket clean, like that Ozark you left by the river. How many times do I have to talk to you? ...