chain smoke rings like a vapor snake kiss


gerhard richter, abstraktes bild

words
--by franz wright

I don't know where they come from.
I can summon them
(sometimes I can)
into my mind,
into my fingers,
I don't know why: or I'll suddenly hear them
walking, sometimes
waking--
they don't often come when I need them
when I need them most terribly,
never

Bild, 1959
-- by franz wright

as the bourbon's level
descended in the bottle
his voice would grow
lower and more
indistinct, like a candle flame
under a glass

sunlight in the basement room

so he reads to me
disappearing
when he is gone

I go over
and secretly taste his drink

mushroom cloud of sunset

vespers
-- by denis johnson

the towels rot and disgust me on this damp
peninsula where they invented mist
and drug abuse and taught the light to fade,
where my top-=quality and rock-bottom heart
cries because I'll never get to kiss
your famous knees again in a room made
vague by throwing a scarf over a lamp.
things get pretty radical in the dark:
the sailboats on the inlet sail away;
the provinces of actuality
crawl on the sea; the dusk now tenderly
ministers to the fallen parking lots--
the sunset instantaneous on the fenders,
memory and peace...the grip of chaos...

war is bad
--by john "broken hand" morton

War is Bad for Children and ME!!
fuck bush, fuck george bush
ignorant asshole supreme
fuck him up his ass.
my dick in his sneering gob
a mean dumb mother fucker