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The Official Material section has been updated, lads and ladies. Cheers.

 

Someone asked me why I make so many references in my work. Well, it’s because I find the things I reference interesting (and I think that the people that appreciate my work will also find them equally intriguing) – and because in the age of Google, I think that these various references are easy to search out and look up if one wants to find out more about them. That isn’t to say that my work is inaccessible without a reader knowing exactly every reference that I make – hopefully, I’ve accomplished this undertaking and you find that even if you do not know exactly what I’m talking about you still get something from the work. Hopefully you have been able to make out the underlying intention behind every tragic, satirical, self-mocking bit of verse or prose that I’ve published here. If not you might be the cultural or intellectual equivalent of a prig or Bristol Palin.

 

Remember that when you read me – you are reading a formidable curmudgeon, a loving drunk, a dejected cynic, a man who’s lost himself in verse and has forgotten the world that has him cornered. I am but a contemporary Tom Sawyer with no fence to paint.

 

For a Languid Muse

 

Like a well bought derivative

you’re meaningless but profitable

like whores for plays, sickly and over-powdered

I’ve found you a role

dressed in white like a hopeful symbol

that inspires

but does nothing much besides

my creature, pure, of artifice

I wish to be moved most of all

by you

even if through liberal derision

by your lovely, limber form

this is just a disgraceful continuance of my lecherous adornment of you:

an adoring verb here (I apotheosize my love)

a gentling adjective for dressing

just a familiar orgy now

all of it

every line

a misery newly blind and bound by expectation

a cathouse in a loveless dusk

an atelier of rooted thieves with empty pockets and empty skill

a royal court without a queen

it’s growing dull, then duller still

you must let me feel less for you

as the inevitable conclusion forms merit

as a muzzle upon the hand with which I hold my pen

leave me be

finally a finality

a lament gutted by a smile

you’ve served a while

and now your time is done 

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