He who loves God
cannot endeavor that God
loves him in return.
Do you know,
I think the cool silver
of this is hard to live by.
When there is anything
you want very much,
you are making up a story
all of the time,
of how you will get it
and how it will be.
You want the love of God
and the human sort. A big treasure
and a little treasure.
I wonder if …
It’s way past time to start heaving:
unplug the air boxes in the harmonica,
bracingly slow,
“No!” rising from your throat
like deer across a road:
there are always more …
Sunrise on the shore
Bright fire of a flaming torch
Beckons me to soar
Whether you’ve boarded from Liverpool or Heysham
or Stranraer, years later the journey is the same
along the Lough at evening, the chimney of the power station
in Kilroot, Carrickfergus …
Whose hands are these I think I know.
In my pants, in the neon glow
of the THRASHER sign above
the toilet, summer is just beginning
to swelter. “No Hands” is …
Keeps him moving all through the end of summer night, nails loading the floorboards with the heaviness of sleep that cannot land. Drowsing, he moves his basket room to room, searching …
Britney Spears, I can hear the static you make from here. The bass line beams low and clear across state lines, they say. Do you miss indifferent gas station attendants …
by Charles Bukowski this dog Sadness is gnawing at me again. I sit in this room with a big hole chewed in my side. all I …
There I go There I go Derrida Derrida Lacan at the bodega Getting a “lucy”. Heaving garbage down three flights She recalls reading Hegel But really wanting to read Spinoza. That poseur. Oh no, that …
