price of microsoft office 2007 basic cheapest windows 8 retail buy streets and trips 2010 gps cheap adobe framemaker buy photoshop elements 9 in canada buy microsoft money 2004 standard discount office 2007 uk buy windows server 2003 standard microsoft purchase windows xp oem buy finereader 10 what is the cost of microsoft word cheapest windows 7 starter edition purchase expression web 3 buy pc tools spyware doctor 6 purchase windows server 2008 r2 standard
how much does windows xp professional cost cheapest place to buy adobe software rosetta stone classroom price price of acrobat pro 9 best price quicken home and business 2010 cheap adobe creative suite 4 master collection cost of adobe dreamweaver cs4 buy excel 2007 buying ms office 2013 from best price windows xp home software autocad inventor lt price buy cs5 mac cost of windows server 2008 in india cheap photoshop elements 4 buy acrobat 9 mac

Category: Poems


i haven’t presented a poem for a while, and as it is a sunny Fourth of July weekend here in new york, i figured this gentleman would do.  this entry is section 1 of a longer poem, as you can prolly see from the title. i thought it a bit much to post all of it here, but let me know if you feel differently. cheers and enjoy the celebrations…

2009.05.01 – night 1

i act like a monkey
and can’t control myself,
orange tulip petals on everything.

i burnt down the brooklyn bridge
then climbed up the charred concrete remains
and read ginsberg’s kaddish from the top,
but i got bored after one line and stopped.

the mississippi can’t make up her mind.
why won’t she die already?
ryan adams can go fuck himself.

i miss sitting in the center seat of the canoe,
i miss slow mornings that last for weeks.

what if i lose my fingers or my precious feet!
some girl’s eyes make me want to leap
through the closest window and the come
down drowns my saning mind.

photo by Thomas Hawk

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post

to lee: 2006.11.28 00:50

the bees are dying now. i can see them dropping out of the air – no carefully designed spiral descents for them – no no – i follow the bees with my eyes from the wall to an invisible poison sphere hanging a foot away and then shes and hes dive down down down – kamikazes attacking my precious feet! i’m careful not to step on them. not careful enough. all my honey jars are growing hideous fungi – even my sacred tupelo reserves. there’s no one left to serve me my sweet things – i walk outside and wash my eyelids in the abandoned combs and their failed children. perhaps death shall offer no boundary as i absorb the shining golden recipe straight from the tomb.

Post to Twitter Tweet This Post