2 by Frank O’Hara
Frank O’Hara was not the first poet I read, but he was the first poet i read whom I felt was speaking...
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HELL IN A VERY SMALL PLACE
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Why Literature?
Most recent articles
Alexandrai or the Buffybot
Now that I’ve finished Endangered Species I can begin to read a little fiction again. Since my early...
Combustible Maybes
The name we give a yearning after or getting chased Love and paranoia the reaction...
The Noble Rot
       On the way to the car I passed McSorley’s. I could’ve let it slide. Nothing...
To the Sidewalk Scaled With Rain
To the Sidewalk Scaled With Rain  Are you a lizard or the look of stupefaction Eyes frying in their holes...
george carlin is dead
it’s ok to prick your finger, but you can’t finger your prick. i spent so many hours in my...
this is how it all began
I wrote this poem in 1983 or ’84, I think. Maybe even 1982. People used to tell me they had no idea...
Burton on the Introvert
“Voluntary solitariness is that which is familiar with Melancholy, and gently brings it on like a...
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THE MAN WHO CAN'T DIE
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GAHA: BABES OF THE ABYSS
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SPECIMEN TANK
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