Member since February 28, 2013 | 9,386 Readings |
Kevin Sampsell writes a couple of poems and haiku every year or so.
music ends next week // radios will look dumb / jukeboxes impossible to explain // colored vinyl pretty but mysterious / tell your kids that justin…
A poof inside my chest / I press on my left nipple like / A button / It is five in the morning / I want nothing more than blankets / To be…
I. / Eating Animals / Everything Is Illuminated / Here I Am / Tree of Codes / Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close / // II. / Extremely…
Money Is Murder
I once heard // of a teenager / who threw a fifty-cent piece / off a highway overpass / / The coin pierced through / the windshield of a…
My earliest memory / is stepping out of a / long white Cadillac / and landing in your mouth / / Behind your teeth / there was a horse / …
Alone At Home At Night
I want to dance / like Nicolas Cage / if he knew how to dance / // I don’t care / What the radio says / It is not a beautiful night / // …
Full of More Air
God this air is so German // Waiting for some exotic love // flavored dental floss // A cloud with doors // / And then I told you // I’m tired of…
How come your face is just a face / / My face is sometimes / a plate / you can eat / off of / /
I think breaking / windows is a funny thing / to do // Unlocking doors with wet fingers / Letting myself in // Looking through drawers / hiding…
Fang of Jon
Fang of Jon is the urge / Fang of Jon is always there floating / Fang of Jon does not need encouragement / Fang of Jon is invincible, invisible,…
I am too old to play Jesus Christ in a movie. / I wrote this on the wall / of Jesusbook– / The new social network for church-goers. / / (I…
Your voice is in italics / Your voice is neon / Your voice is in trouble / Your voice is stuck in an elevator / Your voice is locked inside…
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I meet a man in my backyard at dusk / He wears a trench coat like a husk / No one would ever believe my luck! // / Masked, headless, hopeful /…
Ten (Three Variations)
The yellow-striped garden spider busy wrapping bees. / A used condom half buried in the corn plot. / The man on the roof unfurls his tape measure....
In the afternoons / I lie on my back / on the hot pavement and / watch the tomatoes die. // They die red with holes of pink, / they die with…
My bitches Run a man madLikeWe got a secret languageSigils writIn eyebrows done upMasterful like frames for wise eyesEyeliner done up / Stabby…
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