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LATTE
At the coffee shop they chatter as if in some foreign tongue, conversations overlaid one on another on another, until all I can strain are snippets of words, stray syllables. This is true everywhere I have visited, and it promises good coffee, for I have found that when I can easily eavesdrop on others at…
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DRY CREEK 鐵笛倒吹 四十
When you are parched and come upon a dry creek bed will you assume there is water flowing freely beneath the soil and rocks, and how will you drink it? If you give up your thirst your attachment to life may wash downstream and the bitter waters may run both sweet and deep. You may…
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CHARLES
Bukowski, you old satyr when you croaked was there the great American novel locked away in your head. When you pickled yourself was it for fear that the words locked away inside would spew forth like your lunch so many nights as you verged on alcohol poisoning. When you read Burroughs could you picture the…
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ANOTHER BAR, THIS ONE TOKYO
This poem was recently (February 5, 2019) published in the Beatnik Cowboy. Check them out at: https://beatnikcowboy.com/ “Another,” he said, his knees pressing against the mahogany panels of the old bar, “and keep them coming until I can take no more. There won’t be a last call tonight.” The clatter of caroming billiard balls…
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HAIRY DOG
He says you have no idea how bad this hangover is, and I have to agree with him. You cannot imagine how much it hurts to even think of moving my head right now, he says weakly and I choose not to argue the point. Why did you let me drink so much, he says,…
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SEOUL NIGHTS
they wander up and down cluttered streets alleys under blazing signs OP.10 Nightclub Club Alaska Hesed Disco streets taped with posters Dancoh Discotheque young men flicking business cards cardboard confetti Venturi “Coffee and Whiskey” neon flashing Bulgari Nigh…
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an old writer and his words 