sex
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The Science of Poetry I Einstein’s incendiary ideas words arranged in an idea of order mathematical sequencing it is the intellectual alchemy of the dead watchmaker thoughts boiled in time reduced in a nanosecond of synaptic flash to the ashen essence of humanity the pure black symmetry of silhouette in shadow tarot cards tossed into
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Fool “Centuries ago it had an ‘e’ at the end.” -H. F. I speak to you with out the faith offered by the pope, But “the illusion of faith offered by drugs, rock music, and contemporary poetry.” I speak to you with a mouth full of broken vows and blood, but the voice of the
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Drunken Muse Date Raped: Gives Birth To Out Of Wedlock Poem Tonight the poems come Like the girls who fall over with their legs in the air. Sometimes the poems come quick as a school boy on prom night Drunk on sweet wine, another sordid stain Added to a rented tux. It’s like that when
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All I Want is to Write The Poem All I want is to write the poem that makes the mute girl sing. All I want is to write the poem that frightens cherub faced girls. All I want is to write the poem that gets me excommunicated by the pope and I ain’t even catholic.
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“We who are about to die salute you.” for Jack Johnson, Joe Lewis and Mohammad Ali The title of this anti-poem, about death and taxes was originally ‘Killing Two Birds with One Stone’. Then it was shortened to ‘Two Birds with One Stone’. That wasn’t blowing my skirt up so I changed it to
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If You Smell Something Stankin’… If You Smell Something Stankin’… it’s me I’m the shit to the devil with your politically correct false modesty noble savage hand writing my woman’s writing her novel on the computer I can’t write on the cursed machine I don’t trust the binary code of machine language I want more
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Dreams of Impermanence She is trying to bend A silver tablespoon With her mind And a man to her will. Whatever he was When they met it was Not enough they have Grown in different directions. One has grown older The other has grown up If he will only genuflect Worship me in prayer. Celebrate
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Full of Sin for captain zombie The nightmare, the forest, the fullness of sin I wish I knew now what I knew back then A young enchantress’s eyes so wise Drinks me with her cup of knives Eats me with her teeth of glass Eats me with her hungry ass Invites me to hide
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Fuck Poets I ain’t fucking no more poets! I mean it. I’ll still be friends with’em And hang out with’em once a week at the bars, bookstores, and record stores. But outside of the readings, workshops and features I’m through fucking them. They’re all “door knob sucking crazy.” The bartender’s right as the weatherman. The
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Eulogy for Robert Cochran “…they wanted to blossom and that means being beautiful, but you want to ripen and that means being dark and taking pains.” -Rainer Marie Rilke Five a.m. I dreamed I had a vision of your effete corpse dancing naked decomposing meat marionette attached to invisible wires bloody hollows weep crimson
Joey Cloudy online 