Thursday, April 19, 2007
Fuck the world and fuck this poem. Fuck the beat poets. Fuck Gauguin. Fuck your hair and your stylish clothes. Fuck the man in the moon and his laughing eyes. Fuck your gorgeous brown hair and those lines in your hips. Fuck having sex. Fuck Allen Ginsberg. Fuck Anne Waldman and her fast-paced woman. Fuck going gentle into the good night. Fuck that tyger burning bright. Fuck cranberry juice and vodka. Fuck rice and beans and french fries. Fuck cell phones and balenciaga purses. Fuck skulls and pink and black. Fuck this rant and Vadi too. I want to say fuck fuck fuck fuck to you all. But remember – It’s not personal. I’ve had a rough night.