Yearly Archives: 2008

forum

Poets on-line graze in their pastures nuzzling amusement and despair like sugar cubes from a friendly palm. Old stallions usually aloof will drive in hard when young fillies try their first staggering steps. Swaggering young studs brash and strangely pert … Continue reading

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writing in the morning

words, images lie around all night leftovers in the gutters of my brain waiting to fly into combinations that breathe meaning onto the monitor how prosaic is that? I can write at night or in the pre-dawn sputterings of night … Continue reading

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reading a dead poet live

After Hank Bukowski died, they published books of his leftovers live. Yesterday, I read one while waiting for some surgery, Hon. It’s mainly conversational stuff without the tired conventional guff: the world may all be going to hell, but Bukowski … Continue reading

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