riding high in the waves that i wrote, the unfair grimace of the tired young man, not quite knowing if or when he could be the man anymore, just considering their own phases, their own successful or meandering diatribes on what was meant to be or what could have been. i knew many men like [...]
on the village tired man of hope and lost destiny, only remembering himself not remembering his lovers. an unfortunate poet. a tailored interpreter of renaissance poetry. im not sure how you figure, but i feel the lack.
i love the languages of our sinners, the ones who take the bait and run. i feel honored to be amused by the architects that shape us but i can tell you firmly that i love not the vain rut of my own integrity. i love what earns kisses, and what earns kisses is freedom [...]
the inferno has arrived, and i believe we call it improvisation. the netherlands has there own affinity and there own disgrace, but here in the great world of ballet and theater we have what the bored masses call infinity, and i do not blame them. we are all so beneficial because of our specific talents, [...]
maybe the stress is finally getting to me, but there is something final about love and i dont quite know what it is. i think maybe this fog is finally getting to me, but love reminds me of death more than dying. i think its the humility of it. all your life you run around [...]
behind me, to my left was a pretty little lady about half my age. i told her i was a teenager and she laughed. she had weed so we left the bar soon and i found myself singing all my originals to her as we danced softly in her living room. her dad came in [...]
it was once my birthday, i said, it was once my birthday a long long time ago when romans were rulers and rulers were romans. i was not the vacant celebrity i have become, but something charming and awful. some may even say a delight. i was not afraid or tired of listening i was [...]
i endured through the madness hoping for a release, i realized that i had found a bullet train and could not live without the fruitful endurance of my manuscripts. later that night without the chosen release, i decided to forget how much i was beyond the world and without the grace and kelly of my [...]
over by the furniture where i left your decaying body, i destroyed all the film of the murder and have littered the buns with dozens of extraordinary almonds, the dairy kind, the kind you read when you cant sleep, the kind that makes f scott fitzgerald look like the great gatsby. where you hate me [...]
i was leaning over the edge, yesterday, not sure of where i was or who i was or where i was going, but through it all, through cancer, through blindness, through snow, i could only guess as to where i was going. i was told to see clearly and to think purely, but with drugs [...]