hit college at just the right time to have all my poetry-reading chums lionize the slave-trading Arthur Rimbaud and pooh pooh my misgivings with metropolitan condescension. At no point did I suggest that they, my chums,  disavow the cocksucking adolescent Nietzsche-lite work of that tragic asshole Arthur, I merely wanted it known that I could not be counted on to cheerlead their faddy obsession. Likewise considering the case of that racist old trash-emitting typist Ray Carver, equally-embraced, by my college buddies, at the time: fine, if that tripe gets you off.  But if I’m going to nibble at and swallow … Continue reading GRAVITY’S RIMBAUD: A LIT CRIT PROSE POME


Lizibeta Snitt’s surprisingly popular  Incredibly Capable Crone  series is a trilogy of graphic novels in free verse. The title character is a woman beyond a certain age, a battle-hardened dissident who cut her street fighting teeth on the front lines of Nixon’s crackdown, against campus protests, in the 1970s. TZ (the Crone, who remains otherwise nameless) wasn’t at Kent State the day the National Guard fired live rounds into crowds of student protesters (killing four), but she could have been, being roughly student age at the time.  Like Batman,  and years before she took on the identity of the Incredibly Capable … Continue reading INCREDIBLY CAPABLE CRONE: a book review

careless marching of Time (updated)

    DSC_6977 from S-FILMS on Vimeo. (Things are hectic around here, Comrades… back with new Words in a few days!) careless marching of Time we have just about reached folks the point at which the words ahem  “Humphrey Bogart” become inscrutable   ADDENDUM A little more to sink your teeth into: A song I wrote for Wife… a Dylan pastiche (in the cascading cadence of Like a Rolling Stone; the syllables in italics emphasize where the stresses fall). Personal curio…   Continue reading careless marching of Time (updated)


  We are clumped together in a bewildering welter of struggles against precision-tooled not-good things (ranging from chintzy to show-stopping in appearance and effect) but most of us don’t know it. Many of us sense it,  dreamily, yes. The sensing hasn’t matured into an understanding culminating in a useful response. Things are vague.  Our Army lacks coherence. We are tossed into the battle by birth and more often than not simply age out of Existence before we manage to fire a single shot in the War. There’s the mad scramble for Status preoccupying us but to how many of us … Continue reading THE TRENCH

the undertaker: a very long pome

THE UNDERTAKER   Part One: Philadelphia   The Undertaker is a potent figure in the Cosmology of the Negro Neighborhood, standing somewhere between Baron Samedi and Charon and Paul in the hodgepodge of religious myth that infuses Negro blood since after The Flood and before The Fall (that’s) (a.d.1492) (and 1864, respectively,) (y’all). every   sweatbox Baptist storefront Hall with crosses soaped on steamed-up street level windows and a drumkit near the pulpit and all,  has one square-jawed well-dressed man to which the heart-stopped sisters will report, slack jaw’d and black-tit naked as a last resort: Maybelle splayed on the … Continue reading the undertaker: a very long pome

3Pomes from IF BERLIN

“Fate rarely opts for the strictly comic or the simply tragic when the tragicomic will do.”-Pastor Prime . 3Pomes from IF BERLIN . . the fine arts in berlin   old von bredow and his widow in apparent years sufficient but too meticulous in their pleasures to ever be grandparents, somber-slim and softly rich as becketts, are again in the market for a girl to cook, polish, launder, drive, pose for his sketches and comply without kvetching to the importunities enticed by ripening youth. evidence of a recent bloodtest, a signed declaration of boyfriendlessness, sweet breath and high breasts to … Continue reading 3Pomes from IF BERLIN


  sick in berlin getting sick in berlin its own black romance like love in paris a fling strangers too close on the metro fluids exchanged the essence of nameless kissing that rheumy-eyed grandfather with his pre-Euro Aldi bag his snotrag hard as a fossil may as well have had his tongue in your mouth with a persistent cough he is part of you even poetry is humbled by the couple you have become in fever’s capacity for regret Sunday, 10. February 2008 *** you are a berlin (in honor of the end of an era)* you are a berlin … Continue reading 4 BERLIN POMES


    1. Vera, Nora, Zelda, Caitlin, Viv or Hugo or Tess? which of the famous Lit Wife Archetypes was best suited to the office of Hero Scribbler’s muse/ midwife/ domina/secretary/ succouring and/or bittering breast? and by extension hurt the works the least while providing palliative and/or punishing Sex? which would you prefer were you Scribbler of talented ambition? exquisite Vera   Sirin-sleek, proved Vlad by far the simplest blessed. though pie-faced Nora (who cleaved to blade-faced J and J to her as neither believed they’d ever do better)  playing first J’s whore-of-letters, then consort, homely scold and long-sufferingly anticipatory … Continue reading VERA, NORA, ZELDA, CAITLIN, VIV or HUGO or TESS? (a pome)


  target boss Death has no real say in the deal like the check out churl in a corporate co-op hawking pears as green way-pricey pearls you feel forced to bitch at this insignificant figure in loco which (admit you’re) (rich bitch cross) though: spare the poor unworldly hireling your ire;  target manbun’s out of touch boss for your sense less loss . i gave so many fucks i gave so many fucks when young i’m stunned i’ve come to give some still propelled perhaps by self’s ill vacuum’s suck at ego’s fragile crack to (with love) fill . r u … Continue reading 4SNAPPY POMES of the ULTRAMODERN

morning news: a pome

sipping i read Jerhonda Pace was just      15 when she  met her musical idol, R. Kelly,     outside his child pornography trial:  a     stylish first line for a novel.               it seems too bad it’s merely true, taken un adulterated from straight-faced morning news  (though more than just a bit) (funny) (oh, fuck your tut-tut-tutting) (boo). Kelly (50) also   paid for DJ Kitti to visit his nibs in Denver. soon as our Kitti arrives R Kelly surprises by blithely masturbating to plight his troth ’til Kitti feels ill with fate’s LOL-call to … Continue reading morning news: a pome

incredibly capable crone (a super hero pome)

  “Give them time, Bella told herself, they’re only young”.   – Jenny Diski, The Dream Mistress “Over wine at dinner Miss Gamelon told Miss Goering that it was only correct that she should be thus.”   -Jane Bowles, Two Serious Ladies – –   incredibly capable crone, undetectable by testosterone, stealth itself in all her undesiredness, wicked as a paper cut ( in wit ) of tongue tip slit, mint envelope too swiftly licked, many (wo)manuscripts sent, her grimaces thickening palimpsests, she’s   coming for you yet, will snap those dick lit pencil necks with crone kicks really hurting, first ninja … Continue reading incredibly capable crone (a super hero pome)


WHERE IS YOUR AWARD-WINNING SOB-STORY, POET?   where is your award-winning sob story, poet? your artless re-collection of shit-luck’s local rain;  no no not there  on a page but carved  in your face, just make our hairs stand up again. no no, not metaphor: the living thing, your body-book of priceless pain: fill out the forms and claim by youth, weight, sex, disability or race blame, then: fame.       forget style’s privilege, the   hate-crime slur “illiterate,” march topless to protest epiphany-risking alphabet-rockets cocked at inchoate Lunas in blue cliché and every bigot’s toxic bliss in Ability  (a) required, (b) … Continue reading WHERE IS YOUR AWARD-WINNING SOB-STORY, POET? (a pome)

30 under 30 (a pome)

There are two kinds of neat endings: the satisfying circle that ends where it began, and the straight line that ends in a point.-Jenny Diski   30 under 30, lips big with promise, quillin’ starlets, yummy bodies mill thirty sonnets, no ugly bunnies in the bunch just hotties, the committee of the contest swung Euterpe’s harried cat,  hit klatch hip- thick in lairy goddesses,  odds against it: staggering, herd work itself unearned, un versed, un worth much blag or bothering, eclipsed in turn by 20 under 20’s vestal offering , yet   60 over 60’s claws keep sharpening Continue reading 30 under 30 (a pome)