March 2012
0 posts
1 tag
“Gone. The saddest word in the language. In any language.”
– Mark Slouka
February 2012
129 posts
3 tags
3 tags
1 tag
3 tags
2 tags
5 tags
2 tags
2 tags
4 tags
3 tags
2 tags
2 tags
1 tag
3 tags
3 tags
4 tags
2 tags
2 tags
look at us
pedaling down bell street
there were six of us, drunk
on bikes under streetlights
and moon, whooping at it,
me with my summer beard
and jaunty hobo hat, my
friend hollering “walt whitman
on a bike, the good gray poet
rides again!” at those people
sitting on their porches and
me, misquoting the old bugger,
shouting into the night air,
“look at us! we take
to the streets!...
4 tags
2 tags
4 tags
4 tags
4 tags
6 tags
2 tags
1 tag
1 tag
2 tags
2 tags
2 tags
1 tag
4 tags
5 tags
2 tags
3 tags
3 tags
4 tags
3 tags
2 tags
2 tags
it always will be
it’s tough i know
under rented roof
i write these poems
poems for those
who rent roofs
and eat little
and have little
so that they
might write
or paint
or just stay sane
and sometimes
it’s really hard
when the rent is late
& the bills are late too
some part of you feels guilty
you want to be a good citizen
you want to please them
but you want this more
& when...
1 tag
Daily Program-Henry Miller
MORNINGS:
If groggy, type notes and allocate, as stimulus.
If in fine fettle, write.
AFTERNOONS:
Work of section in hand, following plan of section scrupulously. No intrusions, no diversions. Write to finish one section at a time, for good and all.
EVENINGS:
See friends. Read in cafés.
Explore unfamiliar sections — on foot if wet, on bicycle if dry.
Write, if in mood, but only on Minor...
spam
just got a email that read:
are you their tonight?
i need a man shoulders.
try my email now.
mc donald
words
i love the word florescent. it means the act, state, or period of flowering; blooming. i love witnessing this in a person.
4 tags
