tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63716792011-04-21T19:42:42.022-07:00plan bbasically for only a couple people to ever seef5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comBlogger1031100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1127481025314193012005-09-23T06:09:00.000-07:002005-09-23T06:10:25.320-07:00misdirected, we weremisdirected, we allmissed the point andjumped off the toll roadf5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1118351646379270112005-06-09T14:13:00.000-07:002005-06-09T14:14:06.386-07:00Caroline, The Pale Young LadyOn the screaming hot summer afternoons of Bethany, when the waves crept lazily over and around the black rocks of the jetty and most young women lazed in the sun's full blast, a pale shade of a creature, wearing a heavy bathrobe, would pick her way down the steps of the boardwalk. Her feet in slippers, a beach bag under her arm, and her face obscured by a sun hat andf5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1118342992532476502005-06-09T11:49:00.000-07:002005-06-09T11:50:29.246-07:00Would That We Could Be So Empty of WeightWinter's ended, the long streams of windShiver through windows in stone houses;White the snow that melts from our walls,And white the candle that lights my page.The clock in the hallway accosts us by night,As the flame in the hearth burns low;I will leave you now, my darling child,I'll walk till I'm covered by the thinning snow.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1118279170702930162005-06-08T18:05:00.000-07:002005-06-08T18:10:45.220-07:00Bethany Beach, Optimistically Titled "One in a Series"Bethany Beach in southeastern Delaware is a racist joke*, an odor of crab meat ripe for devouring at the hands of ravenous vacationers, a clanging of dishes in the kitchen, a cloud, an anxiety. Bethany Beach is purified and profane; from young to old, from country-club set to fortunate West Virginia hick real-estate speculators--“We're still f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1118154806359678332005-06-07T07:33:00.000-07:002005-06-07T07:33:26.370-07:00Graduation, Jane Austen, and the BeachFour years of college, which can best be summed up as four years of swimming, drinking, and misunderstandings between myself and the opposite sex finally ended on the twenty-first of May of this year, 2005. Like the rest of the clowns who stumbled in black lycra gowns across the stage on that fateful ninety-degree day in Washington, DC, I now finally had to f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1115826125675558352005-05-11T08:36:00.000-07:002005-05-16T09:09:33.086-07:00put it out theredreams mainly of menpiled on men but alsoof a frightened look from a girlin a wig who jerks mightilyand phrases clipped,countless lays beside me,restless in a double bed,cried and sometimes even have shakenme from sleep and into waking nightwhere eyes hurt andbottles break and televisions speak.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1115825796473836682005-05-11T08:31:00.000-07:002005-05-11T08:36:36.733-07:00speak upcomb the alleys for frothyyoung maidens who, their hair in curlsand their eyes gazing upwards,as boxers before they fall,will light you on firein the back of the liquor store--douse you with all manner of hooch,take one cigarette, and flickit gently through the air.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1115063471103502922005-05-02T12:42:00.000-07:002005-05-02T13:06:49.186-07:00the narrow gate"The tempter approached him and said to him, 'If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.'"--Matthew 4:3"You cannot say, or guess, for you know onlyA heap of broken images, where the sun beats,And the dead tree gives no shelter"--T.S. Eliot"All that's beautiful drifts awayLike the waters."--W.B. Yeatsgive me the sweet,the aspiring ladywho will stripf5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1115006304833908202005-05-01T20:55:00.000-07:002005-05-04T18:32:02.496-07:00findings"i was gonna get right back"-s. carterthe sheerly malformedand unhappy gentleman,who papers his letters undersurveillance, cringes.his wife, a long fattenedcook, squares another plateand calls the children to eat.the man is man as many are,and so he disappoints,is selfish, unthinking, cruel.he forgets along with all his children,the simple rule of marriage,wiry war and plaited pants.he'llf5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1115006094030101592005-05-01T20:40:00.000-07:002005-05-01T20:54:54.030-07:00tiny deaththe tiniest of death sits alongthe benches in the hall,waits for the bell to sound,waits for you to rise.when will you have died enoughthat wind will crawl on buried paws, carry you, lithe and willingtoward the branched trees?when you will have aged enough,will you light fire,hear the crack and slither,and find the tiny death?for the old, tiny death does not lurk far;he sings a song of f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1113828159990185952005-04-18T05:41:00.000-07:002005-04-18T05:42:39.990-07:00shake that ass, girli pointed at the scar on the radio thatthrashed through the living room fasterthan a bottle of gasoline lit aflamewith a jet pack on the back.melody swiped from the jack daniel's bottleand slapped across the face of an understanding bounceri quit long ago my darling childhope and delusion so tender and mildif there was ever a chance of quiet in marchi guess i'd sit out on my f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1113248813954764022005-04-11T12:40:00.000-07:002005-04-11T12:46:53.956-07:00the wind"and a wind from god sweeping over the water"-Genesis 1:2hand extended,she stoops forward,petals off the trees,snowed-upon dress,curled hair,femme noir,arms long,curved,childish teeth,hand pushing,hand forward,smiles,stilts, hands extended,turns,smiles.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1112684413537404352005-04-04T23:54:00.000-07:002005-04-06T11:33:50.673-07:00one of few, one hopes"Were you but lying cold and dead,And lights were paling out of the West,You would come hither, and bend your head,And I would lay my head on your breast"--Yeatsbread rises over kettlesand i sit on my lost morraine.i overlook a lake so dead to be the sea it'd die again.big betrayals come piece by piece;to know this is enough.by and by i'll have said my peace,if only to f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1112574046900760112005-04-03T16:59:00.000-07:002005-04-03T17:20:46.900-07:00blue dot. "Allow water no outlet"--Sirach 25:24"Es-tu l'oeil du ciel borgne?Quel cherubin cafardNous lorgneSous ton masque blafard?"--Alfred de Musset, "Ballade a la lune" in a crowded room the dots float in pairs,green, yellow, brown, grey, steel and frighened pairs.the mists skirt the corners. the dots dissectone another, point at dry canvasses.the paint, embedded in fabric, complete,formed f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1112218862478555922005-03-30T13:32:00.000-08:002005-03-30T13:41:02.480-08:00anxiety dreams"And he dreamed...And, behold, the Lord stood above it, and said, I am the Lord God"-Genesis 28:12-13"4:40 pm Mar 30"-my phoneturned on the TVnot better just not themand i walked under red bridgeswith red bricks in each hand.my face swole up like a bubblefrom the lips of a young girl,hair in natty pigtails,lunch pail tucked in overalls.i pointed my phone to the moonand i sipped f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1110553393689107782005-03-11T06:48:00.000-08:002005-03-11T07:03:13.753-08:00March 11, 2005“I’m throwing rocks tonight in the cold snow.”-Leon Neyfakh“it's a sad scene and would probably be even more dismal if filled with lotsa unfulfilled, awkward hookups with rules of conduct an limits on what you can do and asking permission and people leading you on and all that crap. i don't really need it all as much as i used to think, and last night just proved once and for all f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1109648337100333942005-02-28T19:38:00.000-08:002005-03-07T11:54:34.950-08:00idle in the water"why do we fast, and you do not see it? afflict ourselves, and you take no note of it?"-isaiah 58:3"you have indeed become for me a treacherous brook, whose waters do not abide!"-jeremiah 15:18when i was very, very young i would go down to the stream with my best friend, sophia, to fish with sticks we would find and string we would bring down from my mothers' sewing drawer in my f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1109001053716311952005-02-21T07:44:00.000-08:002005-02-21T07:51:49.520-08:00on being unfair in a fiat in morning"And immediately the cock crowed."-John 18:27judgements passed around the campfireand i judge this joint to be rather proper.it feels wet in my hand from the lady next to me,whose hair weaves down her shoulders in misshapen disorder.did it again and flew back on my planeand forgiveness, sweet mistress, was to be my delight.but the scrambled addled adder that f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1109000689781856142005-02-21T07:36:00.000-08:002005-02-21T08:06:27.030-08:00the truth never"have you not made distinctions among yourselves and become judges with evil designs?"-James 2:4vicious little girls,barely thirteen,parade in their panties and shoot guns at me.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1108992107057415712005-02-21T05:10:00.000-08:002005-02-21T05:21:47.056-08:00the wiring on the wall"Many shepherds have ravaged my vineyard, have trodden my heritage underfoot; The portion that delighted me they have turned into a desert waste."-Jeremiah 12:10such vitriolfrom such a young soiled brathow underestimatedand flowery the languagea spit in a cat's eyeand a balcony overhangingthe hair falling overmy coif floweth overundulate and prick the needleinto the doily,f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1108475666590911742005-02-15T05:40:00.000-08:002005-02-15T05:54:26.593-08:00the treehouse"The man and his wife were both naked, yet they felt no shame."--Genesis 2:25the treehousesits across from yourabandoned house.the orphans. lemonadeof abundant fruit, fathercrashed,heaps of ironhidden in the garage.climb branches with safaris and rhinos,the lining and the matingof the beasts."are you different from me?""dare you to let me see..."older boys hide in the leavesand watchf5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107886450382280842005-02-08T10:12:00.000-08:002005-02-08T10:14:10.383-08:00job offer
an office acquaintance asked me
to go down
to make copies
and i obliged.
so i sat on the screen and
copied my acquaintance, shooting
file after file.
the back office fun
had to end at some time
but i didn't want crums
crusting my pants.
so i sat in the office
by the monitor with the chicken
sandwitch in the back and my own
head smashed on the keyboard.
she coughed. the whole time, f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107886328469517052005-02-08T10:09:00.000-08:002005-02-08T10:12:08.470-08:00my first kiss
pants missed the fit
koreans reading the koran
and i'm in the back seat,
my pockets falling off.
slapped a little child,
gave another the finger,
sat on the subway and ate
dangerous amounts of chips.
four years old also four time,
always four lines, then
sixteen to make the pattern
wrap properly around heads.
snakes make great bird-feed,
no known solution but
a tired way out andf5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107805555083671192005-02-07T11:36:00.003-08:002005-02-07T11:45:55.083-08:00i think it's safe to conclude that i was not prepared.
dunno.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107805424051739262005-02-07T11:36:00.002-08:002005-02-07T11:43:44.050-08:00fast food
so hungry i demolished three whoppers
i came out the other side.
where were you when we were ordering the fries?
no sandwitches left now, eat your own legs.
i am quite sentimental when i pass by
car wrecks
and nostalgic when i pass by
the ocean, of course.
off forecepts will it tumble back down again?
it wont' because of the throne thimble and the quintuple zero
following the figure f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107805222569475722005-02-07T11:36:00.001-08:002005-02-07T11:40:22.570-08:00my lil plant
i have a lil plant it
sits by the windowsill
soaking up sun like a sponge
and my lil plant cannot fail
to spread roots and sink tooth
right into the soil.
i play my plant jazz and it dances
i play my plant punk and it withers
i quietly shush my baby plant at bedtime
and i often catch it up reading under the covers.
my lil plant quit playing piano
my lil plant planted a garden in f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107805077710035862005-02-07T11:36:00.000-08:002005-02-07T11:37:57.710-08:00more and more
seems easily we've gotten
better but che's dead long ago
the CIA killed him, he tortured
tortoise-shelled kids for doing their jobs
and i quit reading the how-to
when i realized the pointed frame
the picture came in actually
had twenty distinctive jewels encrusted.
who said anything was any fun?f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107803869319805202005-02-07T11:15:00.000-08:002005-02-07T11:19:14.120-08:00still orooni only no slim
and no virginia
and no quiet dark underlying heroin addict
covers the drapes.
quietly gerbils whirl the wheels
back in the cage while the gilded
ragers feint at one another
it's still dark outside.
i painted it that color
cause all i got is a broadstroke brush
or do i broadly stroke the bush?
no i have no cushion to do that anyway
so perverse and
distorted the face
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107803532440749132005-02-07T11:10:00.000-08:002005-02-07T11:12:12.440-08:00hahaha stop staring, share
so i quoted the arabs
and nobody quit my eyes
spunk and understanding
quiet and blue as i sit there across the room
always across the room
or under the boom or
caught in the frame but never holding
the mic
pinned to my shirt
cause the illusion must work
the tv blares on and i watch myself
cuss about the cowboys but
the crabs were all over that from the beginning.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107803304026342442005-02-07T11:01:00.000-08:002005-02-07T11:14:17.973-08:00i want to keep writing until i reach the resolution that i really want to have but i don't think it comes it's as if i wrote an infinite symphony but i can't hit the note that finishes it off so i'm sitting and playing my ass off but there is no end in sight and all i really want is to end the whole stupid project.
prose is boring and verse is worse
and words are not real
they are just little f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107802177644078902005-02-07T10:48:00.000-08:002005-02-07T10:49:37.643-08:00i had another one but it got lost somehow which is too bad because it was kind and i was beginning to lift myself out of this orooni trough that has plagued everything for too long and it's more complex than it seems in the meanness of everything, so i will try again tomorrow.
stay off of drugs, everyone!f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107802032714111842005-02-07T10:18:00.003-08:002005-02-07T10:47:12.713-08:00maybe it lasted ten minutes
an odd feeling of guilt
and a perturbed little trip
i ripped up my uncle and cried
like a bitch.
so sorry again for all of the vents
they clog up the airshaft and drive up the rents.
people can live wherever they want
just drive down the block if you want me to talk.
i ate and i drank and my pen fell from my foot
and i quielty sat in the saddle for twenty more
days.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107801538939558042005-02-07T10:18:00.002-08:002005-02-07T10:38:58.940-08:00i guess i'm still sorry.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107801451177153272005-02-07T10:18:00.001-08:002005-02-07T11:31:24.043-08:00i do not enjoy knowing
it does not endear me to you
i am not a likeable boy
i have the revenge of a swordsman
and the sword of a toy.
a knight of pert tits
a chivalrous boast
a father a son and an unholy ghost.
my pointless young quest was to find
a great grail,
instead i found futile
beer cups filled up with snails.
a river and a creek and two
chiefs down the path
i finally stumbled;
i'd f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107801077602791382005-02-07T10:18:00.000-08:002005-02-07T10:31:17.603-08:00typing
i have no talent, no palette
all my colors shades of grey
and pointed brushes shy to
the canvas.
pantless i write on my own ass
and cramp up my hand and saran wrap
my tits in a tight little ball so
no one can tell i'm a woman at all.
shirtless i aim down the middle of rome
and quietly shirk my troubles at home.
a little girl took my hand, said "leave me alone"
and i quit under f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107799605285431552005-02-07T10:06:00.000-08:002005-02-07T10:06:45.286-08:00what do you want me to do?f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107758273492041822005-02-06T22:29:00.000-08:002005-02-06T22:37:53.493-08:00was that some kind of joke?
"lust not in your heart after her beauty,
let her not captivate you with her glance!
...
can a man take fire to his bosom,
and his garments not be burned?"
--proverbs 6:25
is everyone alright?
this bomb on my chest is giving me an awful rash,
wouldn't it be brash of me to brush it off?
i have a brillo pad and a purse full of pussy.
give it to the headless donkey,
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107479047693817092005-02-03T16:46:00.000-08:002005-02-04T09:20:35.473-08:00no bible quote, asshole
needle to the knuckles, fuckers
every vein tapped
and small pimples
riding on edge
in red stockings
paging upon
boon lost his mind
hammer to the skull
and bottle to the neck,
just ask assane ndjaye
the fable of the fuck
and i, hypnotic in my chair
blue plates and razor blades and underwear
show under my thumb as my shirt
lifted a scar on my stomach
as if i'd given f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1107286981469084732005-02-01T11:26:00.000-08:002005-02-01T11:43:01.470-08:00moving out
"Would that we had died at the Lord's hand in the land of Egypt, as we sat by our fleshpots and ate our fill of bread! But you had to lead us to the desert to make the whole community die of famine!"
--Exodus 16:3
put it in back,
by the leather books.
last time, the frame's
glass nearly broke.
keep the lens on the desk.
the phone rings once,
a disturbed voice.
"will you come alongf5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1085327689606829562005-01-30T08:47:00.000-08:002005-01-31T09:14:43.203-08:00'look here it is.'
"jesus found an ass and sat upon it."
--John 12:14
the old man was sitting on the green bench in the park. he was respectable in his faded suit and tie, looking like an ordinary and sane old man, which was why it was odd to see a wine bottle wrapped in brown paper which he would cradle in his hand.
with the other hand he was reaching into the plastic bag and breaking off f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1106665140921413992005-01-25T06:51:00.000-08:002005-01-25T07:00:46.453-08:00refresh me with your round-ass apples, baby
the one who is too smart
the one who is too kind
the one who has too much fire
scorching her behind.
the one who laughs too loud
the one that fucks to hard
the one that wears no underwear
and lifts her skirt out in the yard.
the one who lets me steal
the one who bathes too much
the one whose rotten teeth
my tongue adores to touch.
i sent a fax to f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1105921775392584422005-01-16T16:17:00.000-08:002005-01-16T16:31:50.946-08:00like the roaring sea
another skeleton,
my friend,
a shard, dulled and wild,
a grain of sand
trapped in a rolling
droplet on the leaf.
each word
the sound of a shovelhead in sand.
each word
a shovel smashed against my head.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1104417585161967752004-12-30T06:34:00.000-08:002004-12-30T06:39:45.163-08:00final burn
i can throw ashes pretty far.
hand in my pocket, i lean across the hood.
do i want to make you cry, or
do i want to know that i could?f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1103853665482305392004-12-23T17:47:00.000-08:002004-12-23T18:01:05.483-08:00solitaire
when you play solitaire
sometimes you can't draw a goddamn two.
and that two is all that keeps the cards
from stacking, suit by suit.
i've played a lot of queens,
placed a lot of kings,
laid all four aces,
black and red across the table.
still i can't find that goddamned two.
i listen to the same songs play.
turn triplet cards all goddamned day.
still can't find that stupid two.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1102345386483815472004-12-06T06:55:00.000-08:002005-01-27T18:46:35.583-08:00it's funny
"so yeah i even dreamed that i lost my arm and then i cried when you wouldn't take me back.
just cause i didn't have my arm.
so i shot myself."
-PLEDGE, Jeremy Fisk
i sat in the back of the car
and you in the pink dress,
as i leaned to put my face on your shoulder,
a crash and you
reached over the trunk
to grab the shards of my head.
where were we when kennedy died?
we sat in the f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1101647956701718572004-11-28T05:18:00.000-08:002005-01-27T18:47:08.786-08:00i only trust people i recognize
and even then, not all of them.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1100817580012877952004-11-18T14:37:00.000-08:002004-11-18T14:43:47.410-08:00one more good line
and on the road down by the river
under my own hood and my deplored defamed
gust of wind
i saw briefly and only for a second
your house, very nearly finished,
and i couldn't help but notice
a quiet ray speak through the attic window.
underneath and between the legs
of the table
and by the sink
and under the showerhead
and in between the faucet and the tub
and faced with so f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1099773810425797872004-11-06T13:38:00.000-08:002004-11-06T12:43:30.426-08:00 i don't care care care
about the shot shot shot
i won't take it down.
i will not.
pour the cup down
set it away when you're done
chase me down (bis)
so when it's faded
when the lights are on in back
when we've done it all
i'll crumple my shirt on the ground
it'll never be easy
waitingf5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1099718163329564272004-11-05T21:15:00.000-08:002004-11-05T21:16:03.330-08:00i quit
i quit.
sorry.
i did.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1099718125315401972004-11-05T21:14:00.000-08:002004-11-05T21:15:25.316-08:00how come?
quanta, pronto.
helix, jack, get the helix.
set it by the flask.
i didn't want you under the table,
get the bunsen.
the counter's too black,
towel.
scribble under the painted
men who wonder what
and when the asteroid hit the earth
would cells divide
or would jesus hurt?f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1099718044074728792004-11-05T21:11:00.000-08:002004-11-05T21:14:04.073-08:00pash set fire
in for the deposition.
the cart went awry,
streamers up in the air,
red, faintly blue,
the smell of ugly leather
and plastic steering wheels.
one hundred fifty one
and spatial directions needed,
the flick of a lighter
and up she goes,
nights faded.
we need the truth son,
was it you whose busted nose
filled the earth with blood
until your bile rose?
just let me find them,
one by f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1099717863031844642004-11-05T21:09:00.000-08:002004-11-05T21:11:03.030-08:00you'll like this little number
one two three four
don't forget the one where
i walk down the sidewalk and
drunk
fight
right arm cut off
writing
jars of olives on my chest
and a heart on a post-it
and then taking my
left-hand snubnosed
and pressing it to my head.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1099717744641521132004-11-05T21:05:00.000-08:002004-11-05T21:09:04.640-08:00who could be
so spit and spin and turn around
upside underneath
and feint the heavyweight's delight
and spin wheels in Minnesota.
dark came fast
and i was under sedatives
on green grass while
one touched my hat,
one touched my shoe
one touched my hand,
one left me, blue.
lurk and prey
on babies' hides
cast your ballot
and give em hell
under simple metaphors
of dire crystals.
put some stuff f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1099717549043281472004-11-05T21:01:00.000-08:002004-11-05T21:22:37.466-08:00wait! did he...?
consult the list.
i can run.
a canteloupe half.
a pound of chocolate
and fifteen flowers.
an agonized and ragged sigh
against a pillow.
what's the count?
let's find out.
the building of a school in brooklyn
fifteen dodgers playing ball,
he struck them out. one and all.
-brown eyes?
-no.
-how bout green?
-blue's the only one for me.
or when it was hot and i sat outside
and f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1099717246331823292004-11-05T20:47:00.000-08:002004-11-05T21:01:23.716-08:00brutal, brutal
brutal brutal afterthought
and by the way
i forgot
i don't have any teacups for my son today
i've left them out with the cakes
to rot.
twenty four children clog the home
dishes, washrags,
and me
alone to tend them.
knots and boats and clams and shoes
and turds left by the mice
that ate the cheese during the night
they shift their skulls to fit through cracks.
time to relax
we f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1099343389649345492004-11-01T13:08:00.000-08:002004-11-01T13:09:49.650-08:00waiting
for some the love is simple joy
that swings under a still tree.
for others, surprise ensnares the foot
and grabs them about the knees.
for me and you, if we'd pretend
no breeze or gale would stir the field,
i'd swing all day beneath the branches
'till seed to earth, by root, was sealed.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1098360353406952262004-10-21T04:59:00.000-07:002004-10-21T05:05:53.406-07:00water in the barrel
there's water in the barrel
water in the barrel
water in the barrel of rum
when god was a beginner
before he had us sinners
he put water in the barrel of rum.
now there's water in the barrel
water in the barrel
water in the barrel of rum.
we had a time we had a time
before we filled the drum
there was sand and spit
but we cleaned it out
and now there's water in the barrel f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1098245901402905232004-10-19T21:14:00.000-07:002004-10-19T21:22:32.410-07:00waited in the station
waited in the station
and there
down through piss-stained walls
to the rails
and out.
cold against the shirt.
opened the door
and in
drew painted
danced, laughed,
ran up,
east.
waited in the station
and down
to the mission
through the gates
and home.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1093213348147187702004-08-22T15:06:00.000-07:002004-08-22T15:22:28.146-07:00Across the Counter
a scar belongs on that pretty face.
plunge a ring into your skin,
the ridge above the cheek.
taste your platelets as
they mouthe a warning and a kiss.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1090591917076788132004-07-23T07:02:00.000-07:002004-07-23T07:11:57.076-07:00THE COLLECTED OLD POEMS, hehe Part 4: The Workshop Series
These badboys were written freshman year for a poetry workshop. Disrespectful.
cummings
This morning I decided I'd write drek like ee cummings in my room wearing a hooded sweatshirt flip flops and jeans. Hope you like it. It's REALLY clever.
Uh Uh
The only thing I do myself
Is sit before a screen,
Occasionally writing
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1090532331806810132004-07-22T14:26:00.000-07:002004-07-22T14:38:51.806-07:00THE COLLECTED OLD POEMS hehe Part 3
Collage of 3 poems
At the beginning
three quick hits on the table and a double sweep
Also spawned solitary audio evidence.
A goofball
Occasionally chirps,
Rips his larynx.
Hearing him holler,
The City exploded to power and property and pleasure,
Expanding only just fast enough to avoid recollapse.
Any f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1090530865609771322004-07-22T13:59:00.000-07:002004-07-22T14:14:25.610-07:00 THE COLLECTED OLD POEMS, hehe Part 2
Rubber Mallets and Very Violent Behavior
You only think you're scared
You’re just drunk and stupid
And you definitely want me you moron
To enlightenment first
To the end of the line where my blind eye
Will take a rest and pass over the control panel
And prey and pay and pray in the recycle bin
Before the bing f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1090529676472425262004-07-22T13:43:00.000-07:002004-07-23T06:58:08.116-07:00THE COLLECTED OLD POEMS, hehe part 1
Wisconsin, I Guess
Green and red roads and trees and many other
Artists configured in basements like
Bees in the hive and
Children of all ages can
Enjoy the ride. Make sure the flag on the strap
Swings round in bass
As the drumsticks fly into the eyes
Of buttoned-lipped grown-ups. Take out your own paper-thin Ladyf5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1090374805592820192004-07-20T18:52:00.000-07:002004-07-20T18:53:25.593-07:00elementary head hash
yeah, i guess a couple books lay open next to a guitar on my bed,
and i guess there's mold growing on the plates on my desk,
and i guess the clothes i'm wearing are starting to stink,
and i guess i left too many dishes in the sink
and my oh my, it's me,
oh my oh my it's not me
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1089728859425595852004-07-13T07:27:00.000-07:002004-07-13T07:27:39.426-07:00one of many
a small betrayal like
imagining
the drink hitting the face and the fist
the jaw and
on his chest
yelling
“there you have it now, pretty boy”
and breathless three seconds later
“youre so pretty laid out, pretty boy”
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1089405228848637642004-07-09T13:32:00.000-07:002004-07-09T13:33:48.846-07:00A dead bird.
You think that’s poetic?
Toss it in the truck,
We got more duck to hunt.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1088438530795203122004-06-28T08:59:00.000-07:002004-06-28T09:03:09.893-07:00the bobbies
I got high,
Walked
Barrios
Looking
For ladies,
Or to roll bottles
Down the sand.
The sun came up after;
Ripples
And sand crabs ran
As shade rolled on through.
And I dreamt of men women talk
Nakedness and clothes.
As I dreamt out there,
A lot of times lost
Put in bottles
And rolled into the sea
Began to bob on by.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1087544422587778612004-06-18T00:39:00.000-07:002004-06-18T00:40:22.586-07:00for buke
for what it may be worth
thought my smarts could get me through.
then i met a million kids with more.
then i thought romance would do.
then i saw i don't have shit on poe.
now all i've got is these lines.
most of em are bad.
the ones that aren't
i can't take credit for.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1087500026786275612004-06-17T12:20:00.000-07:002004-06-17T12:20:26.786-07:00still in bed
Just lie down.
Stop the tears from gasping down your body.
Stop shivering.
Stop gasping.
Do not enjoy this.
Be nervous.
Because this should be like
Fucking with your eyes closed.
It should be like
Fucking with your eyes open.
It should be just like fucking.
Just like blinking.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1087238393322255622004-06-14T11:39:00.000-07:002004-06-14T11:39:53.323-07:00breakfast with chuck
I sat down with Chuck to eat breakfast.
He didn’t eat, of course. But he was sitting there anyway.
“Mike,” he said. “It was all a lie and a trick.”
“I know, Chuck. No one bought it. It’s ok.”
“Nobody’s a tough guy anymore.”
“Maybe nobody ever was.”
“Forgetfulness makes tough guys.”
“I guess we’ll have wait and see about that.”
I got the check.
Chuck drove me home.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1087229475528845202004-06-14T09:10:00.000-07:002004-06-17T12:23:28.376-07:00today
A simple notion guides us:
The idea that
I say “dragon,”
You see your father.
The idea
That fangs and chariots
are here with us,
That as eyes and spears meet,
Diseased children, sugar cubes,
And half-blind women scream.
The idea
That as you plod and bite
Through these grasses,
You taste the salt,
The mercury
Inside my mouth.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1086992734036915302004-06-11T15:24:00.000-07:002004-06-17T12:25:45.876-07:00Some say...
That fire over there, boy, that fire
That begs for a friend, is cold inside.
But you'd never know;
Its outside burns when you reach in.
As your hand nears, the heat dries the sweat
On your palms, you begin to shake, you see,
The cold.
But you'll never know the cold exists.
As you strain for the ice beneath,
Your nerves, your hands, give
Under the flame.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1086731007895101502004-06-08T14:43:00.000-07:002004-06-08T14:43:27.896-07:00The Other Son
He scrapes through the door, sits,
Rests his boots.
White with yellow trimming hum the walls,
A pair of twins and
Coat of arms on the fireplace.
The parents attracted bees with honey
And had procreated madly,
Only to lose half their boys
To the angry sting.
In walks his mother with
Miles of pans.
“Hey ma.”
“Son, how did you reach us?
We told you not to come back.”
Addresses,f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1086368163497184622004-06-04T09:55:00.000-07:002004-06-04T09:56:03.496-07:00The Meadow
Laying cocked on an elbow, he
Reaches into manicured flax, teases the cottonmouth
Dress that lies open, checked in tattered, lighter blue.
Beneath the blades and sun
They crawl, grounded, tracing
Dirt and bones.
As the clapboard clips,
The pair swings back. The dress collapses
Beneath the swell of the machines.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1085435748894317342004-05-24T14:27:00.000-07:002004-06-18T00:51:09.503-07:00the mouth i shoulda saw
i been blinded to
teeth, jagged spears and warrior tones
from the gullet,
the glottis underneath
enflamed infected,
germs warring: gangs
covered by the lips.
if i'd just seen the tongue,
alligator at the zoo
wrapped in snakes and taste buds
swarming around, flies on those
tears as he waggles his tail
tempting children for a dip.
but i never saw it.
i imagine
the throat f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1085323859869853852004-05-23T07:49:00.000-07:002004-05-23T07:50:59.870-07:00pretty convincing proof that i have no poetic standards
if you got the book, you might as well read it.
if you got the candybar, you might as well eat it.
and if you got the meat, well, you know...f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1084913665856251872004-05-18T13:53:00.000-07:002004-05-18T13:54:25.856-07:00the nevers
i may be conflicted,
but at least i know no security.
you might know what love is,
but you'll never know it with me.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1084056702564868062004-05-08T15:51:00.000-07:002004-05-08T15:56:12.733-07:00" "
i just want to be like janis joplin
in every imaginable way
and if i ever get tuberculosis
i'm just gonna smoke all dayf5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1084053314537935672004-05-08T14:55:00.000-07:002004-05-08T15:16:52.700-07:00new hampshire
the white mountains rose from the ocean
to shelter me.
the land of five seasons beckoned
when i was young.
my body has now grown older,
and westward i have gone,
to the cold
midwestern plains.
still, my soul rests
in the five-colored land,
where i could build a sugar house
or ride the frozen lakes.
but i am not to age there,
i must live out this flattened life
before i quit the f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1083669776293993002004-05-04T04:22:00.000-07:002004-05-04T11:42:04.123-07:00starting at the beginning is the only way to bet back to it all, so we're back at the beginning here.
I'm better off as a rotten wretch, a man without a soul. From now on, I will be a terrible drunk, have a reprehensible temper, will shout horrendous obscenities and will eliminate the safety of poetry. I will be exactly what you feared in me. I will break everyone in half and leave them f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1083226772175680312004-04-29T01:19:00.000-07:002004-04-29T01:23:48.826-07:00an exercise
upon discovery of the recovered artifacts,
it was uncovered that, in fact, they were not
as artfully crafted as was first supposed.
rather, these crafts were otherwise bound
to projected images superimposed on the back.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1082904439604775762004-04-25T07:47:00.000-07:002004-05-04T00:24:34.186-07:00no one
like grass you can't stand on
or gusts turned to gales
or rotating clouds that rest over london,
eyes red,
i cross each old wooden plank.
no more
a man on a bridge weighed the options for years,
then decided he'd finally jump in.
just then the wind blustered
and knocked off his balance,
now he'll never change his mind again.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1081849006471019572004-04-13T02:36:00.000-07:002004-04-13T02:40:40.966-07:00will she ever see this?
lie still that i grasp this instant,
force it into closing memory.
rest a moment, motionless,
that i keep you here with me.
tomorrow's solitude waits outside.
tonight i've locked us in
to feel your heart against my chest,
wash out solitude's insistent overtures.
he may scrape and smash against our door.
by morning he'll drag you away.
but for tonight solitude must wait f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1079643939495048032004-03-18T13:05:00.000-08:002004-03-18T13:08:59.390-08:00lab notes
rhesus monkeys that rocked
themselves for their mommas
who were long dead
at least hugged each other when they were lonely.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1078942140030095262004-03-10T10:09:00.000-08:002004-03-10T10:13:50.623-08:00Bored in Class
The teacher blathers on about Shakespeare.
Dragging woe floods poor students' fragile minds,
And their gazes, shimmering with boredom's tears,
Dim, drift. The thread of consciousness unwinds.
The shudder of rotten ancient meter
Haunts childish dreams, forever ticking by,
Eternal seconds failing to adhere
To Greek tragedy's strict constraints of time.
Line upon verse weaves its f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1077925040383817202004-02-27T15:37:00.000-08:002004-04-25T07:56:03.246-07:00Tackle Bottle
She opened the door, as they all did, to see him standing there.
Tall, dark hair that he never learned to comb even through years of research and discipline, that tousled mass on his head that contributed further to his charm, and that mole with little hairs that stood on the corner of his jawbone just barely conspicuous, he reached out to half hug f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1076944276072688522004-02-25T13:54:00.000-08:002004-02-29T00:09:08.560-08:00Green Benches
The old men sitting on the bench wonder
Why the young men sitting across are not happy,
Why with vigor they sit and wonder why
Dead men across the sea sat so long in wonder
Of ancient things.
A young lady sits on a bench with
A younger lady inside her
And wonders how come these countless
Men even have
Any time at all.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1077549301330716532004-02-23T07:15:00.000-08:002004-02-23T07:17:47.843-08:00ralph nader is running again. i'm going to vote for him. suck it.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1077270304033110102004-02-20T02:15:00.000-08:002004-02-20T02:15:52.153-08:00“Il est tres regrettable que ce cote toxique des processus animiques se soit jusqu’a present soustrait a la recherche scientifique. L’action des stupefiants dans le combat pour le bonheur et le mantien a distance de la misere est a ce point apreciee comme un bienfait que les individus, comme les peuples, leur ont accorde une solide position dans leur economie libidinale. »
-Sigmund Freud, Le f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1077270491138071482004-02-20T01:48:00.000-08:002004-02-20T01:53:44.233-08:00No Need to Guess
That mess pounding that mess
Heap upon heap and
Crouded mascara and hair
And shavings crowd around.
Crowds wander and shoot
And thrust and exercise,
Pound, thrash, mess upon mess.
A ghasp and a finishing touch on
My face and a disgusted
Sortie and forlorn forever,
A quiet lady covers herself in a towel.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1076944128444272622004-02-16T07:08:00.000-08:002004-02-16T07:11:25.420-08:00The Jesus Series: Playing Chess
Jesus sat down in a park long ago
To play chess against James and John.
The apostles won two out of three matches,
But then Jesus cheated and won.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1076944067582019512004-02-16T07:07:00.000-08:002004-02-16T07:10:24.576-08:00The Jesus Series: Jesus Liked Everybody
Jesus hated wars and stars and ships,
And now experts say he hates men,
But in truth he hung out with whores and witches
And would rather we kiss than condemn.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1076943708111288322004-02-16T07:01:00.000-08:002004-02-16T07:04:25.153-08:00The Jesus Series: Fightin'
Jesus and I have had lots of fights,
And I’ve often been left for dead,
But that after three days trick I taught him back then,
Helped a lot when he busted my head.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1076943629568944882004-02-16T07:00:00.000-08:002004-02-16T07:03:06.623-08:00The Jesus Series: Eucharist
Jesus would get so drunk
His blood’d turn to wine.
Sunday mornings he’d
Transform it back,
And now we celebrate that all the time.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1076943423048788142004-02-16T06:57:00.000-08:002004-02-16T06:59:40.140-08:00The Jesus Series: Everyone Makes Mistakes
Jesus hit mary not so hard that one night
He was drunk and what could she do?
When the child of god gets his nose in a bottle
You just wait til the night is through.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1076943337917931412004-02-16T06:55:00.000-08:002004-02-16T06:59:53.356-08:00The Jesus Series: Jesus and I
Jesus and I are clever friends
We both steal bread from Rome,
And give it to children of hungry streets
And say that it grew on its own.
f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1076575876927993532004-02-12T00:51:00.000-08:002004-02-12T00:53:47.390-08:00ma petite cherie
ma petite cherie
ma petite cherie
tes yeux sont comme des lacs
mais ce dont je voudrais
plutot parler
ces sont ceux de ton petit cousin jacques
ma petite cherie
ma petite cherie
tes levres tremblent a la touche
mais ce dont je voulais
plutot parler
n'appartiennent pas a ta bouche
parce que...
ce qui est bon c'est la dedans
a l'ombre et bien cache
il faut pas se plaindre de nos f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1076575344613427672004-02-12T00:42:00.000-08:002004-02-12T01:03:10.110-08:00J'ai du marcher pour oublier que j'avais faim.
J'ai du manger pour oublier que j'avais du mal a marcher.
J'ai du oublier pour manger la pensée de ma femme.
J'ai du écouter la dame, car
J'avais trop faim, donc
Tu m'as donné un peu de pain.f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1075106845311563022004-02-02T05:50:00.000-08:002004-02-02T05:54:29.826-08:00karang and jameson
Chapter Two
"Adma Toure!" The family, excited to see their returned son, swarmed around, the women exclaiming to each other, "The guest is here! The guest is here!"
They gave us heaps of food, then we lounged outside, joking and laughing. They laughed hugely when I told them my own name, Moussa Coly, and we spent half an hour jibing each others' ethnicities and cracking wisef5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6371679.post-1074850456731812732004-01-24T00:48:00.000-08:002004-01-24T00:48:50.216-08:00karang and jameson
Chapter One
I tried to ignore the kids shoving candy and fake cell phones in my face, imploring me to buy. As one of the last arrivals, I folded myself into the back left seat, legs jammed against the middle row, neck bent to fit my head under the cramped ceiling. I payed the coaxer my fare, demanded change, and we flew onto the road, ignoring signs, speed limits, and the f5againstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04411487284379076710noreply@blogger.com