Jesse (yieldsigns) wrote in lostgeneration,
Jesse
yieldsigns
lostgeneration

although it's a slow-wind ghost-town here...

i hate 'work-shopping'. (.') nonetheless, i've decided to drop back into college and am revving myself up at the junior version, retaking the creative writing class i was supposed to have aced when i was twenty. opinions, please:


like
the fool as brother supine on a stretcher,
his hair grown long, grown overnight, grown too
soon long like he might be dead
already.

you'll never get out. you're too far in.

we'll never toot a New Orleans-style funeral
in your brain
and
tracing back the stroll to your grave,
we will only play
the sad songs.

======================================================


partners in cryin'

they vandalized by tearing away
at the paper tablecloth in
the rest home.

they were the sobbing
ladies.

======================================================

Thomas Sterns (the dope-worms and I)

our ghost is a horse
a horse as if
we're still riding through the forest with
the Elbe in our hair

is like a liquid stride
coursing
from prideless little hot rooms
dissolved in spoons
on toward the limbless wild and cold,
almost comatose on side streets

as the haunting hits
a vein.

it's

the

old

old

man,

man.

=============================================

fission

it's a little diner
and it's almost empty:
only one piece of cheesecake in the revolving
dessert display.
so sad, that-

and this sad thought:
one day we'll just say good-bye
(or maybe not)
and then you'll just
go off.

===================================================
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