say sheaths. Perhaps Narcissus. I go to pick up my typewriter, the smell of clean oil, it's raining, a few intermittent drops a Sidney Greenstreet could walk between. Yesterday I drove the Interstate to see Beulah, in the Lutheran rest home: "They're driving me bananas." What enigma-- dame, woman, babe, lady, commuter, brave shotgun rider …
The next table must be talking about Bushy's State of the Union last night-- "the Joint Chiefs even jumped up and down" * the arbitrary spur of excitement * Academic Lunch Women have more subtle antennae . I'm "working" on my salad greens. Not even a glance at her ambiguous ring finger alerts …
To zap the demons of attachment you told your premature mourners to place your corpse on a table strewn with frozen raspberries * Today is July 18, 2002, and the last time I sat in Boulder was summer 1975-- you arrived, and I was reading your novels & poems and saw no more need to …
in barbecue smoke making chin music-- madras warrior, what do you think? do you find yourself elsewhere? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Last night in my astro recliner, a lawyer highliting certain ossia pons asinorum portions of writ to enlarge for a …
One should enjoy flowers in the company of beauties, get drunk under the moon in the company of charming friends, and enjoy the flight of snow in the company of high-minded scholars. --apocryphal, Chinese Born, bored by conflict taught by degrees to believe we must contend, find some purchase, gain the edge, you put on …
cxk ive got logic class ,cmxlo [ sez old dawg ] o sez old dawg old ????? ? ???? ::_::)864]4 ssubmitted by jim mc curry at carl sandburg college / jmccurry@sandburg.edu butttttt but but / so whut? = _ but_ ___ ` ________________ like, …
First of all, I like this [says my email pen pal, K And I tend to I agree]: I guess I'm beginning to accept the idea of trimming down my voices to the ones I like, and I guess I'm beginning to accept the idea of trimming down my voices to the ones I like, …
[there’s] something to be said … not much, for the idea that everyone ought to commit suicide once in a while Hayden Carruth Listen to the hiss zigzag aggressions, depression, graphs while calmer heads shake their souls -- stirred in sadness do the best they can? Who wanted to be the kid …
The fit seizes me—I drift— tearing sound of shot silk— plosions below. Gray sun changes to pale yellow wash. Milt bops. Duke downshifts. Bessie kneels from midnight to sun in golden chains. Thin hipped, thin lipped, you come trailing your bluest India, weeping to any night switchman, tickling his crotch— Sex, you sing, is just …
To snooze? Two gaunt men--the one I visited yesterday with bones older than mine; the other, today, my age. I wish to make a gift of my fat. I have more than I need. Yes, but the mysterious laws of this planet, do not permit it. If masters there be, in India, or in the …
