The Outlaw Poetry Network Tag Book

SAD LIVES
She told me
her life was useless.
“Of course”
I said
“All of them are.”
She said
she was sad
had been all along.
“That is
a sign of
tremendous
intelligence”
I replied
taking a good hit
off the bottle
of Early Times
we were sharing.
“No, I mean
I am depressed.”
I grabbed
her right breast
poured whiskey
upon it, then kissed
her mouth,
felt my
cock
engorge with blood
and looked into her soul.
“Baby
you don’t
understand’”
I said.
“Love will
not save us.
Fucking [...]

Filed under: Gary Goude
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JAKE’S DREAM
Shit
me and Jake
we’d hit the clock
at 6:AM
Jake pulled the handle
of three 30 year old
Cumming’s drill presses
and I’d set up the Gleasons
making gears
for the machines that kept
Brandon
26 year old fresh kid
son of the owner in his white shirts
to impress his blond
23 year old wife.
Soon as we got our
ten minute break
we’d
head for the shitter
and kill
a pint
of [...]

Filed under: Gary Goude
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Richard Tabnik |  June 30, 2009 New York City |  Photo by Mark Weber
right after this photo….
we were having breakfast at Fairway on Broadway somewhere
around 70th — Fairway is a health food
supermarket with several locations on Manhattan — this one
has a restaurant on the 2nd floor — Richard is
a health food nut [...]

Filed under: Mark Weber
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La Buanderie
Ceci est comme Hopper l’aurait peint :
la rangée des sécheuses jaunes
attrapant le soleil dans la vitrine,
un homme la main étendue vers la machine à sous,
la tête tournée sur le coté comme s’il réfléchissait,
une femme penchée sur une large table
concentrée sur le tri,
une autre debout, les mains sur le côté, regardant au-delà –
comme si elle [...]

Filed under: Albert Huffstickler, Monique Laforce, Sylvia Ann Manning
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Hal McKusick | July 10, 2009 Hampton Bays, Long Island, NY | Photo: Mark Weber
Just what exactly is it about certain people who seem to always be in the nexus of interesting things? You look into the fine print and certain names re-occur. Behind the scenes. Shadow figures.
Hal McKusick [...]

Filed under: Mark Weber
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For sale:
baby shoes,
never worn.
–Ernest Hemingway
I submit this is haiku. Hemingway haiku no less. With-in…the very nature of haiku. Hemingway considered this a story. His best work. The image is the message. What more?
There is little record of Hemingway’s indebtedness to an Eastern way with words. Though the precision of his prose (sharpened by journalism) brings [...]

Filed under: Ernest Hemingway
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Three men
wearing long black coats and hats emerge as if by conjure from an opening in the floor. They slowly climb up what is now recognizable as a staircase. They are carrying guns close to their bodies. They are heavy with guns and dark intentions. The guns have become coup sticks, [...]

Filed under: Todd Moore
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A flower from Leonard Cohen’s garden at Hydra (Greece), picked up, dried and shipped to Mr. K. in France by Henry Denander in July 2009. Efharisto Henry!
Leaving Green Sleeves
Alas, my love, you did me wrong,
to cast me out discourteously,
for I have loved you so long,
delighting in your very company.
Now if you intend to show me [...]

Filed under: Leonard Cohen
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Polaroid.
There is a polaroid,
With my pants down,
And a fat drained slug
Of a dick
peeling out
from an over bush
of black
pubis,
It looks
brown
And sunburnt,
Lounging across my leg.
I try to remember that moment
With any kind of certainty
But i struggle.
Im pretty sure
That night,
I came
On my girls bra.
And she wasn’t to happy
About it.
Or the way i asked her to
“Baby,
take a photo of [...]

Filed under: Ben Smith
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Ben Smith’s AIR A BOIRE, roughly translated as Drinking Songs, isn’t so much a book of poetry as it is a dramatic gesture, a kicked open door, a drink thrown in the face, a stiff shit of the best boiling down the throat. What got my attention right away was the cover with [...]

Filed under: Ben Smith, Todd Moore
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