"The metaphysicians... are not looking for truth, or even an approximation of it; they are after a kind of amazement."
There was a chicken roosting in my grave, but I didn't care, because I planned to eat it later. When the sun came up, all I could see was my feet. Who's been feeding the dog bread? I thought I told you there was plenty of mold for him. He's been such a good chocolate bar lately, when I can't find a toupe to wear around town, he's always there for me. I got him cleaned up like a bowel movement, in a fancy spanish hat. Oh, how I loved those conquistidors, they always saved my butt from Chief Red Face, the greatest Chef to ever take on Mr. Miyagi.
posted Jul 24
Im listening to your "Grandfather" and downloaded it. Great, interesting music! "We all admire the spangled acrobat with classical grace meticulously walking his tight rope in the talcum light; but how much rarer art there is in the sagging rope expert wearing scarecrow clothes and impersonating a grotesque drunk! I should know." Thank you for your friendship! Musical greetings from Munich/Germany!
posted Jun 24
hey, if you're into the Beats, you might dig Getting Punch in the Arm Over the Summer, an article i wrote about some time i got to spend with Amiri Baraka, Sonia Sanchez, Miguel Algarin. and Anne Waldman. It is also featured in the latest issue of Illiterate Magazine. feel free to let me know what you think. ~lhv
posted Jun 21
Wow...they have some on abebooks...now I just need to save up a few hundred pounds to buy a copy! It sounds truly astonishing..thanks!
posted Jun 20
Gentlemen, how many times have I told you not to leave the butter out on the floor it makes it quite hard for me when I am trying to sleep. They stared at me blankly, how many times have I been to that convenience store, and how many times have I been greeted with that awful stare. It was like getting the paint stripped off eyeballs a thousand times over, except without the comfort of a reach around. As I slowly felt the vomit well up in the back of my throat, I thought back to the better times, the times when I didn't have to urinate to get one's attention, but I realize now those times are long gone. How far into the past? Minutes maybe, some might say seconds, but that would be foolish. A release of bodily fluids is guaranteed to produce a pleasure the likes of which can only be matched by starting a small car on fire, one no larger than a horse. Finally, as I was beaten stoically with that familiar broom, I wondered to myself, was it because I forgot to wear protection that I was pregnant with such evil thoughts? Impossible, I was rendered infertile when I had that long ponderous conversation with the great yellow orb in the sky. Ah, what a day it was, to finally be free of all manner of misconception about the world. But it ends, as all things do, with a well timed slap to the jowels.
posted Jun 13
Monkey butt, in a rutt , scratching at my door. Toasted nut, butter cup, why are you on my floor. Sleep now, happy cow, your dreams of marmalade. In the club, yub yub, sipping lemonade.
posted Jun 13
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SiameseDrummers says:
Congrats for RPM!! It works well.
posted Feb 3