The Rat Squeaks

And then one day British Petroleum decided that they would fuck the Universe and that no one could stop them or make them admit it or fo...

I hear from no one much Or at least very seldom. Some send me their junk mail, Though it’s not clear if they don’t know the difference Or...

Can you cure me of what ails me Or cure the ailment of its attachment to myself? Is there any hope or spell for anyone I know Or just thes...

I think she was a pristine girl Who went out into the world With many delusions and intentions, One of which was to sleep with Jews and Ne...

Not one of my lovers Were ever much like me or even close, But for that I should be grateful. I should probably even roll over and play ...

I hear the voice of an American woman living in Mexico. She speaks of her attachments to nature in a rural landscape With 2 burros, 9 dogs...

It’s getting too late to die young, So I’ll have to live with that— Though I cannot say how long.

“It’s a beautiful day,” the house-painter said each morning as I went out, and it always seemed such garbage to me. I’m sure that sunny d...

I don’t really care for living, I fear, But I’m incapable of facing death— Not the rope or the jolt or any drowning or the gun. There’s n...

You were always such a good girl. It made it more delightful to me That you chose me at one time to do those bad things with! You were so...