Da!
the hotel bedsprings creak with her free rhythm haiku – it is morning it is night this weekend in sofia thousands of people are making love wearing out the beds the floors the sheets the sounds of lovers penetrate thick…
the hotel bedsprings creak with her free rhythm haiku – it is morning it is night this weekend in sofia thousands of people are making love wearing out the beds the floors the sheets the sounds of lovers penetrate thick…
oh bulgaria! what has money done to you no one here has change girls & striptease club posters make us all less human oh bulgaria! your elevators have doors to trick foreigners pretty girls in miniskirts keep our change as…
Like me they cannot speak of a Slavic memory, or Soviet tanks, so they bark all night along the streets of Sofia. The echo is empty, like the cobbled lanes beneath the abandoned Palaces of Culture, Science & Agriculture. Dreams…
i sing the throbbing pains of your great nation’s bad coffee hot plates keeping the entropy warm out along the turnpike your name is†dissected by the moon-like stares of motorists stupified by the concrete glare i sing the car electric…
You remain the least of their paranoid worries, smouldering up the Hudson flowing grey hair. They paid for tips once; now change is loose, vengeance. Cold uniformed stares outside exits and gas stations. Over platforms red numbers, an eye for…
the flow the scarper past rivers red with bombast my eradication plans did yield a smaller grain a compromise burst forth with sibillance! scattered rayguns portray the Jetsons at LAX fields of traffic yielding to the dollar scones with pearl…
I can hear Union Station pealing, taking its constitutional in the green mile mall. The siren has gout. Speculation rises to the roof of the Capitol. Liberty then falls, alas. The ambassador’s ambulance driver rides the whoopy-whoo for some arcane…
Red/stop hands reflect on the sides of passing silver buses. Who can now discern what’s nuclear, what simply oil or pre- digital? Ladders, elongated hopes, quiet streets & busy boulevards. With disregard for the French. Speak slowly. Totally super is…
Pale-faced, never in control: remember to cry; it’s a buzz. We live, for then we die – or did i hear that in some song? Pillion, side-saddle, tempt the verge: a highway’s inside sources repeat the same old symbols. Leather,…