I laugh sometimes when I think ab…
Céline at a typewriter
They don’t make it
the beautiful die in flame—
suicide pills, rat poison, rope wh…
they rip their arms off,
Go to Tibet.
Ride a camel.
Read the Bible.
Dye your shoes blue.
Grow a Beard.
I took my girlfriend
to your last poetry reading,
she said “yes”,
“yes?” I asked.
"she`s young and pretty",
sometimes you climb out of bed in…
I’m not going to make it, but you…
remembering all the times you’ve f…
you walk to the bathroom, do your…
in the mirror, oh my oh my oh my,…
your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank…
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
my little girl is
on the carpet—
I am in this low—slung sports car
painted a deep, rich yellow
driving under an Italian sun.
I have a British accent.
I’m wearing dark shades
the illusion is that you are simpl…
reading this poem.
the reality is that this is
more than a
the night I was going to die
I was sweating on the bed
and I could hear the crickets
and there was a cat fight outside
and I could feel my soul dropping…
I reached up into the top of the c…
and took out a pair of blue pantie…
and showed them to her and
asked “are these yours?”
waiting for death
like a cat
that will jump on the
I am so very sorry for
death wants more death, and its we…
I remember my father’s garage, how…
I would brush the corpses of flies
from the windows they thought were…
their sticky, ugly, vibrant bodies
I can remember starving in a
small room in a strange city
shades pulled down, listening to
I was young I was so young it hur…
little dark girl with
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won’t flinch and