Sweeter for being hidden ( Read more... )

i ( Read more... )

Gut fumbling sad tickle ( Read more... )

Broad plank booth ( Read more... )

The long English jacket still trails behind him ( Read more... )

www.pandora.com is cross between a fortuneteller and Nick Hornby. It's fucking uncanny. I want the Music Genome Project to fucking run my life for me. Holy shit ( Read more... )

I promised Adawehi that I would mention her community of poetry bloggers, which is a fascinating meta-site, where bloggers meet and compare notes. The best part, IMO, is that if they accept your request for membership, you become a site co-author. Oh, and at least one of the co-founders is 15. Plucky young anarchists. It's not exactly what I had in ( Read more... )

Remember the bundled son, Quebecois on his hardwood knees ( Read more... )

Every self-published poem on the internet is a revolutionary anarchic act. We reject the capitalist economic system when we say, "This is free ( Read more... )

...staring at his handsome head,
because he asked, I took his stock,
impertinent to pitch or tone or hue;
him having asked, it did not matter much,
or mattered less. Although my chin went up
and brow went down when cruel came home
to roost, uneasy lies the head
on nights when we are changed...