& after the first course, your corsage flatlines Beautiful convulsions Then, it sprouts wings, thorns, claws its way up
your arm to swallow you goosebump by goosebump
At Night, By Myself
life plays its bleak tunestedious, gloomydaylight without light
a rice bowl drops on the floora…
Drunk Bitch dreams of a luminous stream / & pisses herself. Drunk Bitch drops her drink in the lap / of a slightly less drunk body & is sure she's found love / in his smiling shrug
The old men are unsure. Something is twisting up and up to become a stair.
And what is the end for? Who would stop here and dream such accumulations?
Once, a long time ago, I knew a guy named Martin who did not like to be called Marty, though I'd heard another man, Charles, who himself allowed people to call him Chuck, call him Marty on several occasions.
Elsewhere, some later year, I’ll try to be good. Today I don’t care.
The chicken crows at midnight. Crows at four o’clock in the morning. Crows when it rains. Crows when the sun sets. Crows when sirens blare down our street. Only stops crowing to eat.
I think when I die I want my tombstone to say, / This guy noticed things and took enormous pleasure / in the noticing.
Chaie mikhai? Yes please. Merci amoo.He carries a small tea glass…
To “stet” is the act of making a textual change and then changing it back and so on and so forth. In the spirit of “stetting,” Stet also acts as…
“When I built my first stretcher, it was like finding a big surprise. It let me reinforce what I had been doing with painting, which was playing around…