yearning toward the sun these plants — too closely, they burn. ah, the unsaid verb.
THESE gleeful emotions, sonorous and profound: words words words trippingly tapping my tongue, Lolita — Alone in my apartment forever, full and empty now no words to punish, nor doubt […]
He sits with cigarette smoke and a chill in the air outdoors the graying city, watching her guests take pictures they will use to tell a story about themselves to […]
He wears his name on his chest So you won’t forget it — Or so you can pretend To know him already. He is always composing something: Emails, text messages, […]
Yeah so I know it’s been like two months since I blogged. But get off my back, pretend-fans! Sometimes you have to take a little time off from self-aggrandizing to […]
Against my better judgment I am posting this poem, which I wrote to honor the thousands upon thousands of artists slain in battle with this giant city. East of Manhattan […]
Watch the monkey do an impression of the poet.