Bukowski is Dead and I Have Cut Him to Pieces or The Story of Kid Stardust

    I was no golden winged angel but I hovered ten feet above the well-worn floor I hovered ten feet over the man with his stable, well-earned face and his necktie of respectability and a satisfied pipe   I get the big one first and he kicks on his back like an angry whore […]

The Man Who Kissed Hands

  The man who kissed hands found those hands empty   Palsied hands on the road Attempting to repay student loans   People like us Nothing is handed to us And the man who kissed hands will make sure of that   Childcare Healthcare College Shit, paying the water bill   Forgo vacations Forgo new […]