White Liquor

Wildcats In The Cave I heard bickering coming from the basement, about not wanting to go to school, about responsibility, test scores, endless self doubt, and the oncoming storm of eighteen. Then, my wife’s battle scream from the Neolithic edge of the cave. A shriek so wild and prehistoric, it came from deep inside her ancient warm bloodedness. Mother and kitten marking pieces of territorial highland and mother not backing down. It made the dog whine and me spill my coffee. It reminded me of our basic instinctual leftovers that have lingered for thousands of years. If she was going down into the dirt, she was giving her the whole deal, eye to eye, ears back, and flea claws out. My wife roared that morning for the ultimate good of the kitten. She left her biogenetic scent through her claws like two steel smoking revolvers. Hell, there was plenty of food in the den but, this was bigger than habitation. This was hardwired wildcat develop

It was a sad day when William Blake shot himself in his library. When the police arrived at his home shortly after his wife called him, they found most of his books lying on the floor with some of the pages ripped out. His wife was standing near his body crying profusely while clutching his suicide note in her trembling hand. They wondered why such a renowned writer such as he would have even thought about killing himself. He seemed to have such a wonderful life. The homicide detective asked her what was written in the note, so she handed it over to him. The note said, “I had too many books to read. They just sat on their shelves laughing at me while I tried my hardest to read as many as I could. Intelligence is that selfish patronizing world that always seems to keep its distance away from me. When I find myself finally grasping a new concept, it opens a new avenue to another that will also eventually keep its distance away. Revelations are like the sweetest fruit that is too h

Alive on your wave of wet torment, licking the moon of your lips, cradling your breath in my mouth as I held you submerged in my contracting core, held you within as you were within saturated with my pulse and flow. I went under, planted in the memories of your soul. You swallowed our merging with rapid speed. We evolved, stripped of every season, you and I with our initials carved on each other’s skin, undulating in our sensual, blessed commune. Eating from an imaginary spoon Sensual as clay laced with warm water, hard as a window barred - and still the seeds are thrown though I don’t know why - there is too much earth and almost no sun, there are slimy ponds that beasts and fowls eliminate in - spotted with dead-fish-eyes and not at all like heaven is suppose to be. There is a funeral in the fireplace but no one connected enough to mourn the dead thing burning. There are seven steps up and nine down, and indifferent cruelty has murdered every other form of synchronicity - I

Common Ground A delirious populous scurries to constitute their society while the gods of tyranny riding white horses approach. Mable made her daily bread from the cable TV recipes she copied down most copiously in a top secret journal. Made memorable by virtue of his soaring talent and wit the TV personality become crack politician was broken. They claimed we could become a nation united one day if only we would take up mourning the souls of demons. With a lump of expended coal suspended upon his palm Fred swore he’d never said what he meant to say instead. Of the budding plutocracy a philosopher enshrined shred the documents he’d intended to produce from plutonium. There was a protest when they rolled out the new policy declaring that organic fact is to be subordinated by vice. The shyster who schlepped oysters in Sheboygan bound by his caveat that to get respect you must first dish it out. On practically every street corner in Manhattan we he

The Stewardess The time zones divide her in to portions and she struts through the aisle like a vision. Her sexuality is about to bust from her bra and she is a typical American. She reads Vogue and Allure and dabs her face with the suspension of a compact. Beauty can be pulled together like a bridge, but it can fall apart with an eye on the floor. She's a genuine heartbreaker - she'll eat it with her broken bread. She's got her men in a rolodex - When in Rome, right? Gay Art I find your sexuality erotic. The grinding of males can be found in local, gay porn theatres and in the shadows two males are gymnasts. How pleasurable can the taboo be under the mask of the anonymous. The screen is their mentor for outdated “crimes”. They vandalize one another in their bottoms and in their faces and this injustice is sex in full bloom. Can you climb the highest frenzy? They are modeled after the French. In all cases of love, they are modeled after the French. Ne