Every Poet is a Dog From Hell

Every poet is a god, Every poem is a dog from hell, Every kind of poet will imagine tremendous things of themselves, A mind assassin on Tuesdays, A wordsmith in summer, A gift to nuns in winter, A Buk hater, A Hemingway worshiper, A John Fante satirist. But you know you are better off sensing … Continue reading Every Poet is a Dog From Hell



Theoretical frameworks, Too many karmas, Too many fetishes, I am now apprentice to my colonizer, Things unknowable coming to boil, A desperate wickedness, Things you cannot tell just by Looking at the smile on C. Columbus. Gently we waft, In this grasping staging of academia, Acid heads, Blonde heads, Bald heads, Black heads, Block heads, … Continue reading Academese

Hank, If Ever I Were A White Man

Twilight finds me a white man again, in a bit of a pickle. And in this painful occupation, In this second skin, In this adopted sepulchre of mine, If ever I prospered well at this classic treachery, As I do sometimes on my evening prowls on the fish market street, Where I finally become something … Continue reading Hank, If Ever I Were A White Man