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ON HOW ME, RENE FLORES & CHUBBY GOT LOST IN THE ‘HOOD ON OUR WAY TO SEE THE ANGELIC UPSTARTS OR SOMESHIT. (ca. 1985.Los Angeles, Califas.)
Man, but this is a true story; this shit went down. The early 1980’s before everything went to shit and punk rock was dead–but still dangerous. Like “get cussed -at-…
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Different how?
She asked, There I was flustered, on stage And explaining—this: I don’t know what’s expected of me Love, I think. Something gentle—an empathic reach Some life raft Something I no…
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Waiting your turn
Sometimes you write naked and wet sometimes by candlelight with bad music and incense sometimes after a pensive bubble bath sometimes while feeling rosy and refreshed sometimes after a relapse;…
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Plateau
I used to write about suffering it made for good poems & long winded talks with potential targets. it made for fodder of the verse it made for stepwork &…
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On what drove his interest in The Abyss, man’s inhumanity and how “…if you don’t think you have any evil in you, you’re not looking hard enough.” You make a heartshape with your hands; he sees two teardrops colliding. –Child Hood and Beyond.
It was May of 2002 and I was unpacking my life and putting it hither and yon in the storied and antique digs grandma had just willed me and my…
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Woke up with a war next to me
I woke up swinging, with a war next to me on the pillow I had a few hours of minutiae and meandering at a memorial service, I had too much…
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5th/Wall
At juncture of Syringe St. & Bloodstain Blvd where body bags sleep where shitpiles grow arms near dusk Where encampments sprout up as the sodium lamp suns begin their ascent…
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The Terror at Rick’s Burgers
For mi primo Tony: what’s inside must be let out. It was a miasma of human activity, like one of those cameras they put on a fiber optic finger and…
difficult to cure.
poems, vision, stories and soliloquies from the void. m.a.b. est. 1968.
Difficult To Cure 