difficult to cure.

poems, vision, stories and soliloquies from the void. m.a.b. est. 1968.

  • After the fire

    after Hollywood streets, with pimps and gum-stained humanity after lusty stop lights with glue sniffing response time after swerving soberly through too many lanes and lights after a casual stroll…

  • Second Sight

    there, on the treadmill is The Housewife she’s nondescript, bulging and Sisyphus I feel the rock of her undoing rolling over her, before I see it in her eyes. a…

  • childH00d like a Knife

    Childhood like a knife Childhood, an unwelcome visitor by lamplit blackmoon on a frozen carousel and full of terror Childhood for a quarter, a pinball replay an obligatory THRIFTY’S ice…

  • Show up to the page…

    Jane was an artist of the skull and bone I was a beast in his lair pining for an old ghost to placate some new wolf of despair. she married…

  • the killer

                The killer woke up and shaved. He had coffee and read the papers. He ate his oatmeal and toast quietly, the sounds of the city waking up drifting through…

  • Untitled (2003-2004)

    at least I got to see you smile that night at least I got to see you cry with mom that night she at least you saw me ask a…

  • This is not OK…

    I. this is the second poem I’ve written since my brother was killed. He died alone in a ditch off an indifferent road he was drunk and it was only…

  • Christmas, Eve of 2001

    Blessed is the curse, it’s complete here—there’s coffee and Leonard Cohen  and the bed is empty, and dusty eyelid shades are drawn   and the unwashed windows protect me from a…

  • Wasn’t no gunshots

    Wasn’t no gunshots Wasn’t no father Wasn’t no digital mind-space crowding the memories outta wormhole of time some blasphemy turned inwards human anathema a time-tested formula a shitpost original    .               …