Too-Many-Toys makes
young writers with little
imagination, and does not
apologize.

<&
This | I imagine
is what the beginning of life was like:
Remarks over the range.
Melting a pot of frozen chili,
now less the shape of it's container /
yet geometric.
While all the proteins,
vitamins ooze,
boil around the shrinking ice,
Fold and unfold a planet
in synthesis.
&/>

Standing on a beach,
clapping in bleeding tangerine
and electric cotton candy.
just after the face has hidden.
Waiting for the eyes
to breach the ethereal bruise.

Maybellene flies with corea,
a tiger viceroy,
the King's doppleganger,
in jest of copycats.
Floppy,
with stripes that stand against the grass
and want for neurotoxins

Ethelyene is a funny name
for a girl.
But, she's still so pretty
and burns the tongue,
breaking double bonds.
No doppelbach or vodka;
a much quicker poison.

No, I'm not crying.
My eyes just water like this.
Constantly,

La Brea falls in on itself,
weeping methane
like a proper sinkhole.

Headless chickens
run 'round;
streaking geese and I lie
on my bed of burned down.

The whip cracks against his chest, very near the nipple ( Read more... )

The alarm clock peals ( Read more... )

Es saborear un mujer
saber un mujer?
Saborear melocotón
es saber el dulzor mojado,
la pelusa, áspero contra tu lengüeta.
Eso no es saber un melocotón?

Entonces, qué es la differencia?

Outer Brewster Island, MA (Somerville Press Syndicate ( Read more... )

The pier floats ( Read more... )