death
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My Father Has Cancer February 14th 2013 “Merciful Father, I have squandered my days with plans of many things. This was not among them. But at this moment, I beg only to live the next few minutes well. For all we ought to have thought, and have not thought; all we ought to have said,…
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The Source Each time I hear some pseudo Goth I Vampire poem I am seized by an overwhelming urge to projectile vomit a red haze of violence clouds my mind and all I can think about for the duration of the poetic nightmare is I want to kill Anne Rice I want to kill Anne…
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Kool aid and Antidepressants JOEY CLOUDY·WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 25, 2015·1 MINUTE I find it humiliating to have to take antidepressants antipsychotics and mood stabilizers yet it is such a small price to pay to stay out of the mad house, jailhouse or the streets of the southern slums with the rest of the dregs of the…
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She Left This Death and I have unfinished business Tonight we get our affairs in order Settle an old score. I’ve been out of commission For nearly a decade, now this is going down. A Kungfu porno, her praying mantis vs my snake fist. She left this? She coos with a smile after I pull…
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Bathing with Sylvia Before we met we both knew how it ended It’s a well-worn path To the edge of the abyss I know it well As a yo-yo knows the string. We row out to the edge of our oblivion The cyclones dance at the edge of the void. A snatch of the wrist…
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One Of Us Will Have To Die The straight rusty razor trembles in a hand that shakes as if it belonged to a wino with the D. T.s. It’s impossible to shave when I’m invisible in mirrors and all I see is his face haunting me like a hungry ghost in old black and white…
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The Death Of Cool I propose that we initiate the death of cool “The good that men do is oft interred with their bones.” So let it be with cool. Let cool go the way of neat-o, far out, and groovy. Let’s kill cool.
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Gravity -after Renee Maria Rilke I live my life in decaying orbits Pulling out of the death spiral to swan dive Through the center of the dark hub of the Morning Stars Hell Gate When I was a child, I circled around the cosmos Circle shrinking in the dryer Circling the moon and a…
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On Mornings Like this I Write Love Poems to the Ghost of Myself I have lived longenoughthat I have becomea strangerto myself many times.I read a few poems in an old chap book.Poetry the soulremains from the ashesof that man.
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Eschatology “Who in the legions of seraphim would hear my poems, even if I screamed them at god” -Rilke “who in the legion of seraphim would hear my poems, even if I screamed them into gods’ good ear?” –Rilke on a park bench between the alizarin crimson brick facades on the shops in old town …
