Archive for April, 2007

‘Cause I’m walking on down Columbus Avenue The bars are all closing, ’cause it’s quarter to two Every town I go to is like a lock without a key Those I leave behind are catching up on me, 1. i am broke beyond the expression of words. i am also justly pleased- to the exact […]


1. Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village. downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I’ve been up all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phonograph the rhythm the rhythm—and your memory […]


Broadway’s dark tonight A little bit weaker than you used to be Broadway’s dark tonight See the young man sittin’ in the old man’s bar Waitin’ for his turn to die – yesterday night i met sharlene for the first time after many months. a breath of fresh air, a renewal of strength, (a taste […]


“虽然我的外型不够好 心中却有一座不倒城堡 谁能躲过爱情的圈套 甜蜜也好烦恼也好爱上就逃不掉 我这一双粗糙的手 贪图能够为你挡风挡烦忧 准备好多话要说却说不出口 因为看见你心就乱了 努力讨好你却总是弄巧成拙 是我天份不太够 每次你甩头就走 留下我苦思索就是学不会应该先把你挽留 像我这样一个粗线条 就是不懂女人心思微妙 也许我的温柔太渺小 天塌下来我却不会拔腿就跑” heavy and tired with a woman on a balcony: “stay with me.” Roads die like people: quietly or suddenly breaking. Stay with me. I want to be you. in this burning country words have to be shade. (yehuda amichai) […]


WY tells me that i look like a lonely person. HY concurs. “a bit“, he says, staying halfway on the safe edge of things. i surround my life with paraphernalia. i lay my obscure and antiquated books and films and music in front of me. i display my arcane fads. i cant find any people. […]


# yesterday, i bought a anthology of poetry – brian patten’s collected loved poems while waiting for mass. today, the words are rolling down onto my palm tenderly and painstakingly, like the first uncertain drops of the year’s snow. perhaps love poems are written for those with maps but without journeys, for those with bones in their rooms and closets […]


“A man writes because he is tormented, because he doubts. He needs to constantly prove to himself and the others that he’s worth something. And if I know for sure that I’m a genius? Why write then? What the hell for? “ – The Writer in Tarkovsky’s Stalker bike course has ended, tomorrow back to […]