50 People I Fucking Hate
50 People I Fucking Hate
Valentine's Day: A Misanthrope's Holiday
Taken from my facebook notes:<br /><br />Hi,<br />
The spoon turns red<br />and somewhere in your<br />leftover emotional knapsack<br />the sky looks like I’m<br />running. It's true.<br /><br />And by the time I get to where I’m<br />shooting,<br />I forgot it was her who got me to<br />pull the trigger.<br />So,<br />I keep my face<br />in the light of a match<br />and the dark of a foxhole,<br />remembering how she slutted her way out
He’s just too stoned to blog. When he’s not writing his columns, he’s probably trying to figure out why onomatopoeia is so ridiculously hard to spell.
<p>Losin all the lows,<br />they came up,<br />went up,<br />and kicked the little,<br />torpid brownbag of Habit under the skin—<br />and then, God-willing,<br />the next crawl was a soft thirty<br />away.<br /><br />She scratched her pallid arm and brushed the licorice<br />from her temples,<br />asked him, “Why do you write those<br />happy—those pleasant, modest<br />poems,