Robert Wallace said writers should get high off of what they write, and that’s what i’ve been doing, holding the needle, tattooing the paper with siphoned ink. words and their boundless possibilities. watch me rape, assassinate, and plunder the adversary’s mainland with steel font Americano. i’m so high right now, and i have 5 ink [...]
injured civilians wait in the ER waiting room, waiting to hear their name or number called, like at the supermarket waiting for a pound of peppered ham… deep lacerations and fractured ribs sympathize with each other, waiting to be saved, waiting to go back to work and wait for the next paycheck so they can [...]
i haven’t learned how to swim, and i haven’t flown on a plane. beer cans and breasts… things to grasp and saunter with. that’s what i can handle… anything from the land of mother’s milk. i’ll die on this land, and be buried in its dirt. sitting on concrete with my woman, i am not [...]
sloppy wind butchers the leaves to a bloody maroon… chlorophyll and sobriety seem continents away. a jack o’ lantern grins at me while i wink at a scarecrow whose summer task of warding off black birds is over with. the scarecrow stumbles over with a bottle of spiked cider. off we go, sipping and bobbing [...]
walking on blades of grass with a pocketed stash of cash, we entered a lime green Torino and drove to a backyard where privacy hedges hid green smoke and clanking green bottles… cheers to Greenpeace… heads as light as heads of lettuce floating a green sea, like pines about to be decorated on Christmas Eve… [...]
he entered with cola in hand, through the blared Stravinski, and said, “Good afternoon class!” he sat on the empty desk swaying his anxious legs and sampled haikus on our abrasive minds of high g.p.a. hope. his corn cob pipe, snuffed, but i still whiffed the sweetness. he fingered his goatee, brimming white, and pressed [...]
“come on over,” she said. “we’ll talk…no one is here.” i strolled over, opened the front door and found someone there, someone that i couldn’t get along with. damn’t, maybe this someone will leave soon, i thought. 15 minutes later, that someone was still there, catching up on old times that i had no part [...]
what i really need is a month alone to kill off the voices in my head and trap them onto paper… but no, i work and love the wrong woman and search for more disks and codes to crack and bike the valley greens through the bends of a gift that i forget is today.
she took me in like hard alcohol, savoring my optimism and head-spin grins. hour upon hour she downed me ’til the buzz passed her out. then she awoke and her blanch face grew nauseous with each syllable from my mouth until i was thrown up, reduced to vomit down the drain, phoning her with bad [...]
Computer Lab Blues
i’m gonna pop-a-wheely over Route 222 deer carcasses and mutter a prayer with engine reggae smoking… to the Bodhi tree beyond Burger King where i and Nesta had ta’ hitchhike through the Blizzard of ’96 to the bar-bull tricks where i was dropped off at a trapezoid spaceship that flew me to an angel who [...]