Like They Said…

"I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us…we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A BOOK MUST BE THE AXE... Continue Reading →

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Reading 2017 into 1886

I don't particularly like to write in books. I know people who keep Foster Wallace footnotes in the margins of all their books. Like most things, I have an exception: my Nietzsche books. They are fair game. Friedrich Nietzsche's works, when not aphorisms, are dense--they are difficult to scan. I read and re-read Nietzsche, the... Continue Reading →

Uh Yeah, Me Neither… (A Poem)

Do you take all your poems out ‘round back? Fantasize about them during teleconferences? Sketch them from memory by candlelight when the wind sounds like orgasmic gasps? Does your blood burst in your genitals when you feel the line break? Do you try to conjure their smell and end up hyperventilating? Tell me, do you... Continue Reading →

Heartbreak in the Rockies

Back in the bar where I first bumped into her there is no sign of life, it’s like an abandoned building overtaken by overexcited drunks who try to sing their own songs over the lone guitar man playing a bastard cover of Your Time Is Gonna Come. Well maybe his time, but not mine.- from... Continue Reading →

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