RIP my dude, stay puft
Hey hey if you’re in Boston March 6th come check out the launch of my journal / zine thing feat. great work from a whole cast of writers and sages and five great readers.
Buy a copy at noinfinite.bigcartel.com
The Gun Club, “Fire Spirit”
Fifty-four years lighting up the sky.
A quivering leap smashes a billion worlds.
Entire body looks for nothing.
Living, I plunge into Yellow Springs.
Dōgen’s death poem, (ca. 1253)
Allah Las - Allah Las (2012)
Stay cool in 2k14.
No Rules Records comp feat. Elvis Christ, Mean Jeans, Guantanamo Baywatch and more
This ocean, humiliating in its disguises
Tougher than anything.
No one listens to poetry. The ocean
Does not mean to be listened to. A drop
Or crash of water. It means
Is bread and butter
Pepper and salt. The death
That young men hope for. Aimlessly
It pounds the shore. White and aimless signals. No
One listens to poetry.
- Jack Spicer
i wrote a long space poem but my computer ate it. failure to auto-save is self censorship. that’s how they win.