Oh, the kind of angel I’m on the side of / Won’t ever try to hide from the terrible responsibilities of love! — Kenneth Patchen
THE DRAGON ATE MY SONG:Go sing the small gods of vacancy neonGo sing the slobber of tbe thighs beneath khaki skorts and the bump muckup of the smooth chests under the hairGo sing the mornings of gardens and dropshotsGo sing to the boys in yr lap at the Round Table bake saleGo sing slow yr fingernail on the 4AM kitchen mug, yr left cheek on the sundry grist of yearbooks and clusterfucksGo sing Butte, MT to the camera crews and their foozball hoops, hidden bargains, needle scuffles
hey mike, sorry man, i still haven't gotten that stuff in the mail to you and then i went and deleted my facebook account, so i don't have your address anymore. backchannel it to: loganryansmithATgmailDOTcomand i promise to get the books off this weekend.
No worries, man. Did you try the poem machine?
I feel a little dumb: I can only make poems that do not end. Am I missing something?It's a fun singalong, though.
Just keep clicking, Jess. It will eventually end.
I made it so everything appears at once. No tons of clicking. Is that better you think?
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