What If There Are No Lovers Left After the Next Holocaust, & All Our Demons Rise Up Out of Our Bodies, & Our Flesh Needs to Learn How to Be Human All Over Again?
Two students of extinction; stumbling
directionless in the dark;
gentle shores teasing infinity are
beautiful but they are not you
I think some part of you
resents that the idea
that I can unearth beauty
I’m not going to make this about love.
heard all your warnings,
don’t want to be pigeonholed.
I know other things
intimately; low-slung couches
cigarettes & spontaneous electrical surges.
when I wasn’t looking for a teacher
with her casual blasphemies
wearing the crucifix between her breasts –
cheap, plywood, & with her sweat
the black dye trickled
The crowds screamed – they wouldn’t stop screaming for him, cheering for him. He stood on the old stage, bloody with the years. His feet slid behind the pedestal, and his bare toes were wet with the lifeblood of everyone who had stood there before
The ceiling is covered in paintings, with no theme or substance or style but woman, and they flow down the walls like all of history…
Essays & Articles
As a modern person trying to write, I find myself immediately moving towards free verse. The main reasons for this are, basically, that most of my poetic heroes wrote in free verse. What would Howl have been, for example, if it was forced to move within the confines...
George Orwell and Albert Camus had arranged to meet at the Deux Magots café, in February of 1945. Despite their differences…