Guest Post by BARAKANOEL Fuck You —- : 1984 “…oh well what ever never mind” *listening to an ex lover cover the body fails, i keep getting up to leave the room and wash my face; which is really fucking annoying. i’m drinking bourbon – my friend —- died.
This originally appeared in my zine Love Notes and Other Disasters. If you like this poem please grab a copy. Amy Winehouse breaking my heart moaning dead tunes that crackle from the speakers of your cell phone while we fuck on your bed in your living space in your ex
The pencil shavings left over from your makeup are still here as is some hairspray and the champagne glass you stole for me. Your essence is strewn around my room like smoke stains from a fire but you’re not here nor will you probably ever be again. The cars and
This is hands down one of the best poems I’ve ever read. My dear friend Alida turned me on to it and ever since I’ve been obsessed. The poem is by Jeffrey McDaniel and it appears in his book The Splinter Factory, which you should obviously buy because he’s a poet
In honor of National Poetry I figured I’d post something I wrote awhile back. Some of you might recognize it from Love Notes and Other Disasters (which you can get right here!) italian girl in dublin i love your tiny breasts and the way they come to rest on me
Through sprawls of twisting novels, jolting poetry, and a touch of drugs, a clique of artists belonging to the late ‘50s crafted the Beat legacy. At the peak of their activity, general America viewed them as destructive, wicked, and super gay. Naturally, bookstores and classrooms now showcase their work around
Lucifer was cast out of heaven; I was cast out of hell The perfect balance between Good and Evil truly rebelled And as he fell for the beautiful Belle, The Beast could illustrate with kisses, visions Words can’t describe Yet it’s written on your skin in invisible ink, I Fell