june 22nd, 2011

Here's an older piece from my first book.

candy coated

A smorgasbord of tarantula hands and kayak lips, silly putty earlobes and fiberglass fingernails, grocery bags under exhausted eyes, wet smiles that make you want to weep, jagged knuckles of dusty sandstone, gaping nostrils that echo loud and long, slinky necks supporting chins that hang like a wet shirt on a clothesline. Tonight these are my people and they return my cold stares with equal enthusiasm.

june 22nd, 2009

a cut-up I wrote with my girlfriend late into the night...

herculean

Word falling, photo falling, old folks at home eating and breathing quickly, expressionless.  Tina pressed a rough tongue against a rapid neck.  Your parasitic opera concerns are malnourished in this retro neighborhood.  Some day a man will be able to go for a walk and just disappear.  Here is the epicenter of economic rehabilitation, right here, in this room, where we don't have enough coffee.  Male pattern baldness narrowly escaped my evil clutches.  All the lovely diseases separating latitudes of light stumbled into the psychiatrist's office babbling hysterically.  You seem pretty sharp, ever handled a madras skirt?  The telephone rang unsuccessfully four consecutive times like a meteor hiding it's depraved face.  She murmured that the cloudy day had taken revenge on her forehead, but she was usually drunk on the porch combing her ego and stacking her black curses.