I had a vision of the face of reality holding a leather briefcase, eyes dead and dark and hollow, suit, swiftly, straightly sliding down the sidewalk; racing til death for …
The History Of Lameguage (Poem)
the history of language is the vain attempt to amalgamate phantoms of thought into patterns of representations called meanings.
poem to put in place of a poem #3827
the ties that glues them binds them glues them binds the ties that glues the mind the bind the ties the glues the minds the times the minds the times …
Why?
The reason I write poems is because when you’re trying to get from point A to point B, and you don’t speak the language, it’s best to have a translator.
This New Poem I Wrote (Poem)
So what if I cut off my head, and walked around all afternoon dribbling it like a basketball, except that it’s a head and not a ball? Would you cut …
Phantoms of Existence
Those brief moments when the weight of reality is crushing. Lasting only fractions of seconds, we get unfettered views of the real. Quickly dissipating, we resume what we were doing. …
Is Relevancy Still Relevant?
Recently, someone asked, “why is football relevant?” I replied, “why is anything relevant?” but, that wasn’t exactly what I meant.
Ocean (Poem)
When I close my eyes I still see the ocean. In vivid detail I see the waves’ crests, the surfers lining up, and the birds flying. I observe the webs …
The Pope (poem)
The Pope, the Pope, he’s such a dope, let’s cleanse his lying mouth with soap. That motherfucker makes me sick; his bullshit church can suck my dick. Fuck religion, fuck …