Home Page

Hunter Page

Favorite Links

Stories Page

New Page

Recycled Page

Recycled 2 Page

Recycled 3 Page

Come Get It Page

Brander & McGuire Page


ancient scales

it is cool
in the shadows

sun does not
light cowers in

a slinking
stranger amongst
standing stones

vaulted roof


beneath them
my lizard heart

a quartet of silly love songs

oh carol
i am but a fool
as i discovered
while trying
to feel you up
in the back row
of the poxy roxy...
learning your heel
could find the parts
other stilettos
cannot reach

i dropped my popcorn


i loved you
peggy sue
with a love
so rare and true
until emerging
in disarray
from the bicycle sheds
our torrid
school dance refuge
the rain caught us...
your bouffant hairdo
my best shirt
with dye
of a curious hue
affaire de la coeur?
affaire de lacquer!

you always bought the cheap stuff


sweet sixteen
an illicit woodbine
a bottle of bass
and thou perched uneasy
on the back of my
clapped out bantam...
adjusting the mirror
for a better view
of your thigh
i put us both
in the canal
it was your new skirt
and you were not amused
neither was your father

nor yet his bulldog


ah fair fiona
ah the blue balls
of scotland
perhaps kenneth mckellar
may have been immune
halfway up a mountain
with the wind
up his kilt
but one look at you
and i could pick my nose
with my erection...
and then you broke
my dreams
by shacking up
with that tommy whitworth
he of the pimples
and the strange odour
and the funny walk

and the brand new aston martin


as ice
dreams fire

i melt
in dreams

of you

north wind

down to the store
for newspapers

bread of life
bread of death

wind from the mountains
a knife in the guts

dogs huddle for shelter
in starving doorways

the day a spinster
hollow in her clothing

transport of delight

my love
was high octane

and you
a fat pink

we got

from here to mcdonald's

sometimes we look
to the end of the tale
that there be
fat brides
and fatter babies
and find only
as it were
a raped cheeseburger
and an eternity
of murdered laughter
from disconnected
cash registers

modern empowerment

the mutilated beggar
outside rio fashions
hides a g-to-g missile
with a nuclear warhead
beneath her waterfall
of skirts

and that geek
at the gas station -
you know who i mean
the one with the pink hair
and the nocturnal teeth
who scratches hubcaps
and snaps aerials -
that shitty cheapo
knapsack he wears
is full of nerve gas

the traffic cops
are not about to bust
that illegally parked tank there
they know it belongs
to eddie the janitor
and they don't mess
with that sucker

government drives
to persuade the poor
to deposit their semtex
in the bank
stead of under the bed
have mostly failed

but what the hell
this is modern empowerment
little darling -
to each his own
killing machine
and if they'll buy
then sell it

so what
a few people get broken
there's profit in the omelette
not to mention
all them funerals

me, in this goddam ratrace
i gotta get a bigger place
i need more bathroom
for my cluster bombs

teahouse garden

morning sunlight
the teahouse garden
as a glass

in the wilderness
of concrete
single orange tree
for shade

to pasts and presents
to hopes and fears

old men warm
cold bones
and daze
in recollection

delivery drivers
on secret breaks
speak of football
and the shocking
price of coffee

mad halit mumbles
about death
behind the stars
and apocalypse

the tea
keeps coming

blue cross

the cloaca maxima
flows from the stand
into my veins
and i get goofballs
to put me to sleep
and whoofballs
to wake me up
and mothballs
to make sure
the frigging moth
donít eat the sheets
while iím not looking

down the corridor
at the nursesí station
itís hog heaven
for all them
toothsome young doctors
with yugos
in the parking lot
and maserati hands

every one an inheritor
of the bedside manor
and the ulterior

if what they say
about matron
and the janitor
is halfway true
man i can sell that
to the sunday sophisticate

look good
on that animal page there
101 things to do
with a boiler room rat

guy in the next bed
been flatlining
3 days now
but the technician
got busted
stealing spare parts
to build a death ray
and nobody
can figure out
how to cut the guy
off the machine

me iím still here
though they sent me
a pyx-stricken blackrobe
a wild-eyed imam
whose beard got caught
in the angular anglicanís
dog collar
while they was blessing
one another
a mangy monk
in need of a tonsurectomy
a pack of hunting rabbis
a maharishi masala
with a side order
of yogis
and a druid

(at least i think
it was a druid
the antlers may have been

all because
they didnít know
my demonination
(sorry make that
on account of
in the little box
i wrote
and member
in good standing
of the church
of the holy spector
and all the ronettes

but i have
my last rights
and i told Ďem all
to go screw Ė
it was a mistake
the noise was terrible

must be time
for lunch
or my enema
itís not so different
one goes in
the other goes out

so do we have a soap opera yet?

or is this just more makebelieve?


pull down
the sky


with stars
the mercy

of heaven
will keep cold

at bay
this night

half past yesterday

i shot the clock
its ticking was like

a deathwatch beetle
eating away

at the very fabric
of my life

i shot the clock
and now i seek

new ways
of killing time