Note the Lividity, Sir
POEM DAY 11 He’s dead definitely dead Note the lividity and the purple spittle Foam not spittle sir Yes foam and the split in his breeches Where the electrode goes...
Read MorePOEM DAY 11 He’s dead definitely dead Note the lividity and the purple spittle Foam not spittle sir Yes foam and the split in his breeches Where the electrode goes...
Read MoreMicrotel NY Indiana stoned in the car again america’s middle was long ago; this age of what Let me be severe as weather can be and sing while doing the parking lots...
Read MoreAlfred Starr Hamilton to the Rescue! A while back New Jersey poet Lisa Borinsky tracked me down in my office to ask if I had any Alfred Starr Hamilton material. Why...
Read MoreMorning burns and crackles in the leaves and the nuns of Villa Maria are gone. Where their dusty wombs once sat is a conference center.
Read MoreA thousand spleened suns Could not turn off the barking The fleas themselves were all afire And i scratched till blood Matted the hairs of my scalp It was a wineglass...
Read MoreHave they not got law schools in china Why do i have greasy lips What have you been kissing Are the results in yet Are the parameters just Where are the tastes On what...
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