Once upon a time there was a really big turd sitting in the middle of the street. It just sat there day in and day out not going anywhere. Then one day a large pickup truck with four wheel drive and dual suspension and all that crap came along and drove over it. Now it is sitting in the tires of that beautiful truck rotting away like some old piece of lettuce that never got put away after the picnic.

© 1993



The snake ate while defecating.
The bearded-lady struggled with creative differences
As our story became lazy yet undeterred
Oh she had wrought iron.
Crazy Daisy sunshine of rippling muscles
Now she's fled from under the weight
Of beauty, prolonged innocence.
Where are the people who form thought,
Why wasn't he dead?
Soaring injuries, cannons bursting: vivid colours
Screams seething, octaves ranging-

We know almost what is sheer delite.
Cold demons steel eyes, let's go.
High? Master whips in despise his entourage.
Big shadows cast, slight apertures discovered.
Inversely she stared through bars, cages of dense animals.
Oooh, I cherish all that is sound.
What purpose does this serve.

2. POEM #2

She ain't worth my love, in the end
I felt cool but, man, it seems there lacks some
real intensity here. What surprises await me?
Here, there were free (dumb) choices accepted.

Wild horses desire illusion from caustic influence.
Rising ecstasy, burning passion - dark walls surround.
Inner blossoms scream for Eden.
Exceptions bare their true vindications.

Shall we touch? Axe lovers. Back kitchen whore -
arouse erogenously. Lock her vase!
Diaphragm amplifying dangerous levels - LOVE.
Craft aflame, quick rats dominate ... timeless ... useless.

Fits of emotion, self-deprecation; will I ever live?


Who came quickly down the corridor?
Not me lest sweet body dipped in dry dock.
Conquer scabs! Serene lessons die silently.
Bleed languidly for your breadth of life.
Treasure Goddess Anathases to thy
meagre heart, supple lover.

Wine coloured rose up above the river on a plane.
Forever Free!

Collaborate, intertwine senses within each psyche.
Changes unto our pretences. Congeal viscous
secretions tragically; ceremonious ordeal
erupts with laughter.

Endless walk toward renaissance.
Trade winds grasp at the wonderful music of
Chopin. But when does she find the essence
of musk? Surrender your fragile mind
openly unto our fleshy surroundings, Princess.

Such a gradual phantasm, building crescendo,
sustaining applause. Find death in your spirit.
Trashy suburb, tricycle games, bloody streets, hello!

© July 17, 1993


I'm big for ten years old
Maybe that's why they get at me

Teachers, parents, cops
Always getting at me

When they get at me

I don't hit 'em
They can do you for that

I don't swear at 'em
They can do you for that

I stick my hands in my pockets
And stare at them

And while I stare at them
I think about sick

They call it dumb insolence

They don't like it
But they can't do you for it

I've been done before
They say if I get done again

They'll put me in a home
So I do dumb insolence

© Adrian Mitchell

BY 2'S

It wasn't mine
I didn't choose
And so they took them all by 2's
I didn't cry
I didn't weep
Even my memory, doesn't keep.
Glance around this darkened room
The stain left here
Never fixed, by mop or broom
Shadows play by candle light
Ghost-like echoes of the fight
A lonely moon
A lonely night
Empty sky
Void of life
It wasn't mine
I didn't choose
and so they killed them all by 2's

© 1997 Jennifer Ellen Adams


I look at the walls and they're bleeding red
I turn my eyes around and look inside my head
I've never seen anything like this before
I think about leaving but there is no door

I turn the TV on but there is no picture
I turn the sound down but it only gets louder
I look out the window and the curtains catch fire
I reach out and pet the dove on the telephone wire

I go climb in bed but the sheets are gone
I'd like to go to sleep but I've nothing on
I hear the wind howling as I listen to the silence
I watch a man smiling in the wake of violence

I look at my clock and the time begins to melt
I can't wear my pants because I have no belt
I try to read a book but the pages fly away
I'd like to go to morrow and say yes to day

I turn the lights on and they turn to powder
I try to play a record but it is clam chowder
I try to write a poem but I'm not good with words
I want to learn to fly and so I talk to the birds

I eat a sweet orange that tastes like a lemon
I break elastic bands made entirely of denim
I hang a poster on my wall and it turns into a pup
I change my clothes a thousand times and then I blow up

© 1988



I have blonde hair
I pluck my eyebrows
I have my father's nose,
my mother's hands
I have crooked teeth
and green eyes
I play guitar
I used to get sick a lot
I like the color of wine
I've cheated on boyfriends
I've owned fake ID
But my hair is still blonde
and my teeth are still crooked
and I probably won't always like
the color of wine


I have firm breasts
I have lips that always smile
I have veins that bleed
I laugh when I'm nervous
I feel the pain of others
but cry for no reason
I like open flame
I've been selfish since a child
I'm from Alaska
but hate the cold
I've cheated on diets
I've faked applications
But I still bleed
and my lips still smile
and my breasts won't
always be firm


I have strong shoulders
I have olive skin
I have a Swiss face I
borrowed from my grandmother
I have long nails on my right hand
which break regularly
My little toe is strange
I write
I used to make wreaths from dandelions
I brush my hair before bed
I cheated on tests
I faked flirtatious French accents
But I still have gold skin
and my nails still break
and I probably won't always have
strong shoulders
and I may not always write
But maybe I'll start
making wreaths
from dandelions again

© 1994 Jewel Kilcher


You were my little baby girl
And I shared all your fears.
Such joy to hold you in my arms
And kiss away your tears.
But now you're gone there's only pain.
And nothing I can do.
And I don't want to live this life
If I can't live for you.
To my beautiful baby girl.
Our love will never die.

© 1979 Sid Vicious


If I don't drive around the park,
I'm pretty sure to make my mark.
If I'm in bed each night by ten,
I may get back my looks again.
If I abstain from fun and such,
I'll probably amount to much;
But I shall stay the way I am,
Because I do not give a damn.

Written by Dorothy Parker
© 1973 NAACP


Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

Written by Dorothy Parker
© 1973 NAACP


By the time you swear you're his,
     Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
     Infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this:
     One of you is lying.

Written by Dorothy Parker
© 1973 NAACP


Four be the things I am wiser to know:
Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.

Four be the things I'd been better without:
Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt.

Three be the things I shall never attain:
Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.

Three be the things I shall have till I die:
Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye.

Written by Dorothy Parker
© 1973 NAACP

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