christopher-howard-gorrieWhisper

American
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One DayOne day you are born. You don't know anything. You adapt and adjust to the world and learn more and more. Your parents are, more likely than not, ****** They don't exactly know why they gave birth to you, but they know they're supposed to love you now. Your childhood years are formidable and promising. You show talent in sports, music, and mathematics. You go to junior high and get pimples and a ****** drive. You kiss a girl at a Violent Femmes concert at the Del Mar race track when you're thirteen. She's kinda fat and slutty, but oh well. You try really hard to not be included in anything at your high school. You do a lot of drugs. Anything will do, xanax, ******* **** ****** ecstasy, morphine, ****** beer, it's all the same to you. You get arrested for some dumb **** your parents help you. You stop doing drugs. You get really into music again. You start a band. You start writing a lot. Your writing is cliche and dry at first. This discourages you. You can't stop for some reason though. After writing hundreds of pages of ******** you write a line that is utterly magnificent. You go to work at a job that barely pays you, you come home. You dream. The money goes round. Your aspirations swivel about in a drunken stupor behind your frontal lobe. You dream. You wake. You eat, **** and sleep. The money goes round. You eat, you wish you had someone to **** then you sleep again. You keep writing and playing music though. You get really, really good. But the lash goes on.
1
Apr 6, 2016
A Note on Self-Delusion*"Were it not for imagination, Sir, a man would be as happy in the arms of a Chambermaid as of a Duchess." -- Dr. Johnson* / And what of angels, that dream? / The young face reflected on the stream,
7
Jun 29, 2015
Beyond RecallThe summer is static. Over / A drying lawn the slur / Of heat descends. Quiet
16
Jun 26, 2015
Keats is SingingIt's raining outside. / Buses grind the streets. / Troubling to decide
20
Jun 6, 2015
Deflated Pizzazz; or, The Death of Pizza in the Evening Land*for Robert-François Damiens the Regicide* / 1. / "I" once ate pizza. It tasted of smudged sarcasm. "I" scarred my innards with its blazing oils. Now "I" remember it every time "I" nibble a tasty morsel, the pangs of a deadened sacrosanctity robbing my heart of its pulse.
8
May 12, 2015
Reborn in Ignorance*for Kenneth LaRosh* / "All are clear, I alone am clouded." -- Lao Tzu / Those definite days, when I still fooled
13
May 11, 2015
His PastIt was all tufts, / He said, like dandelion heads, / And spread likewise—
5
May 6, 2015
If only love came easy.*for Oscar Wilde* / If only love came easy. / Once exposed to its removal, its terror, the heart grows queasy.
19
Apr 10, 2015
What is what it seems?What is what it seems? / ("What?" *is*) My thoughts? The wind? Anti-aging creams? / All things, like onions, can be peeled.
4
Apr 8, 2015
Alligator PearOn this tan cutting board / You earn your corrupted name: / “Alligator pear.”
26
Apr 7, 2015
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