[A D V E R T I S E M E N T]

HAMMER meets tooth,
tooth clanks onto glass floor,
tooth bleached,
tooth glued to pages of Fresh Magazine.

TOOTH naked, Ohio fields.
tooth & two feet tap dancing.
tooth can sing!
tooth signs contract with agent, Mouth (“hereafter referred to as Agent”).

AGENT massages tooth;
tooth buys wallet;
tooth buys comfort’r, ‘makes’ bed, sleeps upon wallet;
tooth drinks sleepy-syrup, ignores sirens.

SILENCE— tooth develops a tic.
tooth twitches, loses touch with music.
tooth-lungs go numb, no more speaking roles.
tooth sells bed, sleeps on old magazines.

MAGAZINE rings Agent’’s phone.
Agent screams.
Agent purchases shiny new tooth.
The Publisher sleeps upon piles of old money and old teeth …

flu york city

a thing my mother taught me: how to slow dance.

a thing my mother did not teach me: how to talk with women you meet online.

These are the wallpapers on my phone.

at Red Hook, Brooklyn

Animal suicide - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Man Arrested for Shooting at Moon

Shoot Heroin, Not People

you don’t think about me as much I think about you

"Fuck it, I didn’t wanna go to heaven anyway."

Yet Another Love Letter

Good morning, bomb. Good night shelter. Hello, head shot. Goodbye, gun-shy.

The princess picks up wild lilacs and eats ‘em. Di-gest slowly, sweetheart.
Tomorrow morning, the emptiness will fill yer holes again.

Sound the sex alarm. Sirens for Siren. Yes,
a body urges a body craves a body eats away a body.
The hunger subsides. Head shot.
Gun shy. Swallow the poison & smile wide under bright burning lights.

One thousand men. Two thousand men.
Round up the nooses—I promise we’ll win.

Our father’s fathers ate fat & made the same mistakes. My grandma was a Jew. My father is a German. I am not a singer.
This is not my sermon.

Sleep song: silently breathe into softness mattress pillow whirring till the thought-motions blur into black-nothing slash dream-something Latin sashes and eyelashes purring. Is it really that spectacular or just simply natural?

What is wasting time when yer spirit is eternal? Why worry about the burning when yer fever’s so infernal?

feelings is just a word

you is a word
are is a word
the is a word
love is a word
of is a word
my is a word
life is a word


Violence is red.
Silence is blue.

Fixed. theme by Andrew McCarthy