i speak fish

and other delicacies

Monday, April 28, 2008

distraught troughs; we eat pigs for breakfast

bodega babies buy their milk like cigarettes, a buy-one-get-one
commiserating with the cowboys

they in for a bootstrapping backlash

all neon light dyed exclaiming
"Yes! We've paid our electric bill!"

ain't like the service to slow just when the crowds surge
a voltage powering off the F train.

they ride the steed to the waters edge where the freaks make waves towards the sand

i've always had a soft spot for the biblebleeders --

Quran, Torah, New Yorker --

all pealed in and peered in on

Monday; AM
How Do You Pray So Hard?

I get tired 
of believing 
in silent lovers.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

I Am

the Queen of the Internet.

Friday, April 11, 2008

Something...

Easy now.

Feet perched like teetering bricks, stacked on corners/fringes/brinks; plateaus careening with world ends.

Ain't gonna be around much longer with a foundation like that.

Buck wielded his fists back, cocked his chair, and leaned on his knuckle-bones. A see-sawed figure. Buck rocked.

A muddy silence swept through the room. The air was molasses thick and everytime Buck breathed, his life shortened.

He thought today ominous for something grand. He fashioned a window out of his imagination and saw billions of stars and thought, if this were earth... It ended there, but perhaps just for an elongated pause.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Sills

My Impending Doom: