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Paris Hilton.
Every time she calls.
How many times I have to say it:
I don't do those things.
...
The core of it? Withdraw your hand and ask my pulse
Ignore the drop it feels at plunging such a deep chasm?
Bodies snap as they tumble, granite tosses them:
So say engineers of violence. Ask science why hearts break --
They smash against deaf other hearts.
You've dishonored me and my literary studies!
Though I respect numeracy as much as any technophage on this planet,
Sensitivity to the 'aesthetic' of reading and of writing
Double-layers thinking over feeling, feeling over thinking:
The 'stereoptics' of a full humanity.
A man of some connotation, this, rough meat:
The sine qua non of me, the body.
On what head otherwise to stretch the balaclava
With what fist to grip the stick to break the glass
How at the same time lie at the Inn of the Open Sky
Expecting with lame hand the swooping-in Finger
Coffee-house women
So clean their function, to punch up your mood
Social women and so pretty
An old man seems a suitor
Awakes to put the question.
They infuse, they steam, they perk.
A minority.
Being on a thin branch
When the strong wind
Wants to uproot the whole tree.
Even here.
Even in the Land of the Free.
If we grow by our mistakes
There's never been an hour I've wasted.
If we 'waste not, want not',
Then I want for nothing.
Why not get a mind
Before they ask you to lose it?
Sink into reading
Not like quicksand
Not like sleep
Like loss of self in orgasm
Though not an 'obliteration in pleasure'
But 'rebirth in understanding'.
Velli: Odd codpiece, sirrah!
Erasmo: More better said a frontispiece.
Velli: You plough not, then, from within, the virgin earth?
Erasmo: If minds were soil, a bounteous crop result.
30 percent of America is so sectarian ('How sectarian is it?) -- it's so sectarian that it wants my mouth shut and my genitals kept waiting for a rainy day, at 98.6 degrees in unobtrusive cotton.
Lawn mowed. DIY. Children at mental age 8 until marriage. Thoughts so repressed that repression itself seems like a love-in.
The Village Elder says: Hate thyself without knowing it.
So she says It's going to rain.
Then, In two weeks I'm going to Mexico.
Finally, she says, I'm menstruating.

Able was I ere I saw Audrey
Hearts, were they ears listening utmost, hear worst,
And worse, straining to catch whate'er the breezes blow, go deaf.
Did I make the point yet.
Has it appeared here.
Did my lips suggest.
A foray go in the direction of.
That it should be clear that.
Davy Crockett humor, not what it is.
Should one consider that proposition.
Misshapen as Richard III's backbone come the words from.
Entertainment, no, sir.
That Rush Limbaugh is just 5 'mother-may-I' steps from the Brown Shirts