May 2010
4 posts
April 2010
9 posts
Watch
More reasons to be pissed off. →
Missing springtime in the City. →
Il dit non avec la tête mais il dit oui avec le coeur il dit oui à ce qu’il aime il dit non au professeur il est debout on le questionne et tous les problèmes sont posés soudain le fou rire le prend et il efface tout les chiffres et les mots les dates et les noms les phrases et les pièges et malgré les menaces du maître sous les huées des enfants prodiges ...
Make Your Own Girl Scout Cookies - Food -... →
March 2010
21 posts
Mumbling weighs upon my mind The talk of creatures in my spine A contest fought between two souls To know which thought that each controls They argue deep into the night Displaying wrongs, inciting rights They sing their songs with unknown tones And keep the beat upon my bones.
Early morning (b)rainstorms.
‘Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care, But for another gives its ease, And builds a heaven in hell’s despair.’ So sung a little clod of clay, Trodden with the cattle’s feet, But a pebble of the brook Warbled out these metres meet: ‘Love seeketh only Self to please, To bind another to its delight, Joys in another’s loss of ease, And...
A person has all sorts of lags built into him, Kesey used to say. One, the most basic, is the sensory lag, the lag between the time your senses receive something and you are able to react. One-thirtieth of a second is the time it takes, if you’re the most alert person alive, and most people are a lot slower than that. Now, Cassady is right up against that 1/30th of a second barrier. He is going as...
some people never go crazy. me, sometimes I’ll lie down behind the couch for 3 or 4 days. they’ll find me there. it’s Cherub, they’ll say, and they pour wine down my throat rub my chest sprinkle me with oils. then, I’ll rise with a roar, rant, rage - curse them and the universe as I send them scattering over the lawn. I’ll feel much better, sit down...
February 2010
8 posts
Be constructive with your blues.
America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing. America two dollars and twentyseven cents January 17, 1956. I can’t stand my own mind. America when will we end the human war? Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb. I don’t feel good don’t bother me. I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind. America when will you be angelic? When will you take off your clothes? When will you look at yourself...
Love Is...
O but what about love? I forget love not that I am incapable of love It’s just that I see love as odd as wearing shoes.
December 2009
5 posts
September 2009
1 post
May 2009
2 posts
