although
i
only
saw
it
in
movies
i
love
the
image
of
someone
cracking
a
bottle
on
the
thick
lip
of
the
bar
&
using
it
for
a
weapon
the
jagged
glass
neck
in
their
drunken
hand
a
bad-ass
makeshift
blade
unpolished
&
sudden
capable
of
severing
the
jugular
This blog is updated irregularly and has nothing to do with the poet's output. The poet is actually disturbingly prolific. He writes about 5 poems per day. The pages are everywhere, even stacked in the bathtub.
Blog Archive
-
▼
2010
(103)
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▼
April
(14)
- the world is wall to wall w/them
- the third arm in the crowd
- devolving
- sweet undreaming
- love eventually becomes a ghost town
- the world is filled w/a bunch of goddamn captain o...
- does it fool you, does it rob you?
- the slow dripping of melancholia
- how a poem should be
- for now
- mad inmates among the abandoned, the discarded & t...
- the shit kicking demons
- that son-of-a-bitchin' eye of the soul
- self-sufficient universe
-
▼
April
(14)