From The Size Of Each Man:
M: manner than man; L: Lashed unto lies, 2XL: I shall, I shall!
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From The Size Of Each Man:
M: manner than man; L: Lashed unto lies, 2XL: I shall, I shall!
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Nosam, I Cast
From my War— Lock hand that Soon we two Am become Two into One.
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I Call Upon Sisters Three:
Stevie, Courtney, And Lady: Double Trouble Toil & Trouble: Seal him, Bind him, By all You Three— Beyond Eternity. AMEN
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After Sept 5 drop, 3 MORE Releases By Kwanzaa
Between December 26, 2021—January 1, 2022 I hope to release these three new concept-poetry chapbooks: A Young Lady’s Guide To Poetry And Other Witchcraft The New Doctrine And Covenants Of The Thirteenth Tribe The Parliament Of Great Price: Poems For The New Mormon Dirty
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New Poetry Chapbook Dropping September 25th
“To All The Trasnsmen I’ve Loved Before: Poems Of Sacred Confusion” …is dropping this September 25th, 2021. 48 poems are written and ready to be compiled into PDF, which should be press-ready by this Monday morning, with the first print run ready by end-of-business Wednesday. There will be an ice cream pre-release party September 24th, at Golden Hall in downtown San Diego. Copies will be…
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Battle For The Author's Soul
Battle For The Author’s Soul
Last night the beatles and the beach boys battled for my eternal soul. I was sped away in a little duce coupe, but then a giant walrus in the road took me back to the ussr until, finally, david lee roth appeared with his california girls and that was that. The chords of music were strewn about my little bitty room like corpses, beats and rhythms looked up at bedside nurses with pleading…
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Battleship 1976
Everyone has bled, but only women and poets need to bleed. Everyone fears the future and prepares, but only sailors and poets train to hold a knife-blade to civilizations’ throat. Everyone envisions the past and future, but only presidents and poets preside over free souls as commander-in-chief. I am Battleship 1976. I am ultimate scion to the first iron-clad warship; my engines run on terror…
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The Moment And The Speed
So I fell asleep with Sgt. Pepper playing and it drifted through every song until it reached its heart-attack crescendo: that ending that strains, mounts, swells against itself; it lurches, slouches upward, rises and rises upon its rising until it finally— resolves. That note, and its moment, remind me of your name unspoken, on the edge of my lips, here in this haze of…
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