response to The Secret of My Endurance

Yesterday I heard, through bleaming paper and speakers like a thorax, how Buckowski never enjoyed letters. How they would never make him feel better; feel better about clutching a full, whiskey botttle inside and empty room; how frustratingly un understandable they were, from waiting so long under the rain, without an envelope, like undressed African…

That Night

The moon was bleeding when vacation started When vacation started, when vacation started, vacation started. It must have rained empty, owl shaped, money-boxes The wind was some fake, commercialized, love song, a wrong belief for a tabooed romance. I was a sheep, blindingly entering a slaughterhosue I was a foolish foal, following any pack after…

The Turntable

“If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery–isolation. Isolation…

Los Angeles Calls and Drawls Back (SONNET)

Everyone comes here to escape- Freedom! Seeking the sun, which stands so low- The thrill of winning a gamble. Reflections of palm trees in a hundred dollar bill.   I think of home, and for this city I bleed I think of home, and I hear these stories told, under low buildings. It gets used-…

A Dubious Decker Letter

    There was a dubious decker letter on my door. It read: let me mend you my friend, meet me in the circus. However, there was no show when I searched your light, but instead, a site of such justified ripping of my joy. The grass below said, run as fast as you can,…