May 21, 2013
An Acquired Taste that’s for Everybody
These two works of fine poetic literature available from Amazon, among other places:
THE INERTIA VARIATIONS
The fruit of many fruitless years. 126 eight-line poems on the subject of work-avoidance, failure and indolence:
ANTIEPITHALAMIA & OTHER POEMS OF REGRET AND RESENTMENT
A sequence of mean-spirited love poems with particular respect paid to the institution of marriage. Dispiriting observations, felicitously expressed. A tonic to those of us who are not blissfully content in work and love.
February 22, 2013
Appearing with Stewart Home and Jarett Kobek:
Odd Fellows Hall, 26 Seventh street, San Francisco, CA 94103. Thurs Feb 28th. 7pm
Human Resources Gallery, 410 Cottage Home street, LA CA 90012. Sun March 3rd. 7.30pm
February 19, 2013
A sudden deadness
and nothing else
February 14, 2013
I want you to want to give me pleasure.
I want you to be satisfied by my satisfaction.
I am excited by the thought of your being excited by me.
Please understand that these feelings you inspire in me
are a tribute to your qualities.
February 14, 2013
Maybe it should be accepted, even if it is unwanted.
After all, it is a gift, wrapped in expectation
and filled with hopelessness: a delicately dull grind.
Just give up, let go,
let the low hanging fruit die on the vine.
February 4, 2013
I always assume that people I admire are single
and experience a sinking sensation
when I learn they are not. They drop
in my estimation – for what that’s worth -
from wishful thinking to cold hard earth.
January 31, 2013
If you feel like dragging your ass across town on a Monday evening to listen to a splenetic misogamist repeat himself, this might just be the place. Come one, come all…
January 28, 2013
I will be appearing at these star-studded Valentine-related galas.
Beyond Baroque. 681 Venice Blvd., Venice, CA. Saturday Feb 9th, 8pm
Standard Hotel. 8300 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, CA. Tuesday Feb 12th, 7pm
January 27, 2013
The object of this restlessness that puzzles you
is solitude: a loneliness for loneliness,
a wistfulness for restlessness,
a straining back to what comes naturally –
the way things used to be
when I had only me.
I miss myself madly.
I long to be romantically involved
with myself again, like old times:
dependent only upon independence,
demanding only temptation.
January 25, 2013
I cannot locate the source of the disturbance
that has blossomed between us.
It seems, possibly, real… untranslatable.
At best it can be mumbled incoherently,
requiring a different language:
one that you can only feel.
And a different form of currency,
in which I lack sufficient means.
Nevertheless, a situation has arisen
that demands my complete attention:
You persevered beyond the numbness,
even after your jaw cramped, to induce
a state of constant sickly anticipation
of something sweet: an impatience to wallow again
in a mutually tacit sense of wonder, to swoon
into a different kind of loneliness,
from which I restlessly await recovery
and the long snarled return to a serene apathy.