William Keckler. Poet, Narcissist, Blawger. Sad clairvoyant. Answering machine for the dead. Beep. Formerly, the Valerie Solanas of American poetry blogs. If I owe you an apology, I'm saying it right here. J'accuse la manie. Butthole Whisperer and erstwhile poacher/harvester of ivory. Out of Africa and deepest Harrisburg. Goreyphile from a very early age. Bipolar bear much baited by circus freaks. Let's watch crackheads watch RUGRATS on vintage NICKELODEON.
WHORE PIECE:
Be a whore for a year.
This means a literal whore.
Have sex only for money.
Have sex only with people you despise.
Throw all the money you earn
into the sea late at night.
Come back the next day
and see if any money washed ashore. Complain.
I wish I could say humans move me closer to God, but usually it's the Cocteau Twins. I'm crazy as a Trappist monk talk show.How come nobody ever complains that they're overrated? I have poetry horror stories. I don't hate anyone but human coat hangers get on my nerves. Cliquey sons-'a'-bitches. Son, I am disappoint. The greatest weakness of anything is that it's not something else. Disability niggah. I cannibalized a hipster and I liked it. Pray for me.
3 comments:
you should check out kiddos etsy - http://www.etsy.com/shop/kiddo47 loads of the stuff
i'll go there now.
I try to avoid etsy because i know someday i'm gonna fall into it and never come back out.
it's too much fun.
i like searching with the weird category there.
i forget what they call it.
i love the little skull charms the one lady who lives on the beach in california makes from tiny tiny shells.
i love the fortune cookie necklace and the dog bone one.
i bet it's fun to mold those things.
if i were in prison i'd do that all day long.
i mean between making shivs.
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