Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Friday, February 17, 2012
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Various Artists - Jazz Canto Vol.1 - An Anthology Of Poetry And Jazz
Amplify’d from likedreamsville.blogspot.com
Various Artists - Jazz Canto Vol.1 - An Anthology Of Poetry And Jazz
Labels:
50's,
album share,
beat,
jazz,
poetry
See this Amp at http://amplify.com/u/i1pt
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Charles Bukowski's last 'muse' lives with US author's ghost
Linda Lee Bukowski has kept everything the same since Bukowski's death, plans to turn house into a museum one day
Amplify’d from www.google.com
By Romain Raynaldy
(AFP)
–
23 hours ago
LOS ANGELES — The last muse of Charles "Hank" Bukowski, the alcoholic and womanizing US author who used blunt prose to write about society's downtrodden, still lives in the home she shared with her late husband and hopes to turn it into a museum.
"That's exactly like living with a ghost," Linda Lee Bukowski told AFP. "His room is exactly the same. Clothes hanging around, you know, things like that."
Linda Lee is as shy as her late famous husband, but made an effort to speak to strangers at the Huntington Museum in the town of San Marino, just north of Los Angeles, which is holding an exhibit titled, "Charles Bukowski: Poet on the Edge," through February 2011.
Bukowski (1920-1994) was an important figure in 20th-century US literature. "In his poetry and prose, Bukowski used experience, emotion, and imagination, along with violent and sexual imagery, to capture life at its most raw and elemental," reads a description of his work on the museum website.
Bukowski "spoke for the social outcasts -- the drunks, prostitutes, addicts, lay-abouts, and petty criminals -- as well as those who are simply worn down by life."
The Museum bills the exhibit as the "most comprehensive exhibition on the writer ever undertaken" and includes typed scripts of Bukowski?s poems, periodicals with his poetry, and pictures loaned by his widow.
The 1987 Hollywood movie "Barfly," starring Faye Dunaway and Mickey Rourke, is loosely based on Bukowski?s life. The 2006 film "Factotum," starring Matt Dillon, was another semi-autobiographical work, drawing on one of Bukowski's stories.
"This exhibition is very personal for me and it's the combination of many years," Linda Lee Bukowski told AFP.
"I'm very happy and very nervous because I'm not used to talking this way. I'm just getting used to be a person of public stature.
"Bukowski didn't like it at all," she said.
"He was a shy man, he was an individual who was more reclusive than outgoing and that's why he would tend to drink and overdrink, because it was so much for him to handle the enormous social life. It was wasted time for him.
"He would rather be either at his typewriter or having dinner at Musso and Frank," a landmark eatery billed as the "oldest restaurant in Hollywood."
Bukowski, who grew up and spent most of his life in Los Angeles, rose to fame after a difficult childhood and 14 years working in anonymity at the post office.
He had written poems and short stories all his life, but did not write for a living until age 46, when the editor of Black Sparrow Press offered to pay him 100 dollars a month to focus on writing.
"He never talked with me about his work," his widow said. "He thought it was a bad luck. Once in a while, he would come down at night with a poem, and he would have a drink and he would read it. It was once in a year.
"But in general, he would never show anybody because he thought it would bring bad luck. He would send it immediately to the publisher."
Bukowski had many female muses in his life that inspired his trademark raw, straightforward style. Linda Lee herself was never comfortable about being in his books.
"Certain things are very embarrassing. But you know, you're living with a writer. He writes novels. He always wrote about the people he lived with, that's what he wrote about. People surrounding him in his life, his family, his existence, his friends.
"So I assumed that sooner or later I would be in some of the writings. I didn't practise to be in that position," she said.
It was the writing that brought her together with Bukowski in the first place, she said.
"We were very distinct. He's from here (California), I'm from the east coast, just different backgrounds. But we had a similar sense of humor, similar inner things. So I think that's why we clicked."
Today she still lives in the home they shared in San Pedro, a coastal town south of Los Angeles, a place she hopes to eventually turn into a museum.
The house "is exactly the same -- I have not changed anything," she said. "I live with my cats, in our house, as if I am living in a museum, because everything is there but him.
"I go into his room in the evening... and sometimes I can smell, you know, some sort of a fragrance of Hank in there."
Linda Lee is as shy as her late famous husband, Charles "Hank" Bukowski
See this Amp at http://amplify.com/u/fkpp
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
3:AM Magazine - Three Poems By Charles Bukowski.
From: http://www.3ammagazine.com/3am/three-poems-charles-bukowski/
This is an article from 3:AM Magazine.
Three Poems
By Charles Bukowski.
a poem is a city
a poem is a city filled with streets and sewers
filled with saints, heroes, beggars, madmen,
filled with banality and booze,
filled with rain and thunder and periods of
drought, a poem is a city at war,
a poem is a city asking a clock why,
a poem is a city burning,
a poem is a city under guns
its barbershops filled with cynical drunks,
a poem is a city where God rides naked
through the streets like Lady Godiva,
where dogs bark at night, and chase away
the flag; a poem is a city of poets,
most of them quite similar
and envious and bitter…
a poem is this city now,
50 miles from nowhere,
9:09 in the morning,
the taste of liquor and cigarettes,
no police, no lovers, walking the streets,
this poem, this city, closing its doors,
barricaded, almost empty,
mournful without tears, aging without pity,
the hardrock mountains,
the ocean like a lavendar flame,
a moon destitute of greatness,
a small music from broken windows…
a poem is a city, a poem is a nation,
a poem is the world…
and now I stick this under glass
for the mad editor’s scrutiny,
and night is elsewhere
and faint gray ladies stand in line,
dog follows dog to estuary,
the trumpets bring on the gallows
as small men rant at things
they cannot do.
the young man on the bus stop bench
he sits all day at the bus stop
at Sunset and Western
his sleeping bag beside him.
he’s dirty.
nobody bothers him.
people leave him alone.
the police leave him alone.
he could be the 2nd coming of Christ
but I doubt it.
the soles of his shoes are completely
gone.
he just laces the tops up
and sits and watches traffic.
I remember my own youthful days
(although I traveled lighter)
they were similar:
park benches
street corners
tarpaper shacks in Georgia for
$1.25 a week
not wanting the skid row church
hand-outs
too crazy to apply for relief
daytimes spent laying in public parks
bugs in the grass biting
looking into the sky
little insects whirling above my head
the breathing of white air
just breathing and waiting.
life becomes difficult:
being ignored
and ignoring.
everything turns into white air
the head fills with white air
and as invisible women sit in rooms
with successful bright-eyed young men
conversing brilliantly about everything
your sex drive
vanishes and it really
doesn’t matter.
you don’t want food
you don’t want shelter
you don’t want anything.
sometimes you die
sometimes you don’t.
as I drive past
the young man on the bus stop bench
I am comfortable in my automobile
I have money in two different banks
I own my own home
but he reminds me of my young self
and I want to help him
but I don’t know what to do.
today when I drove past again
he was gone
I suppose finally the world wasn’t
pleased with him being there.
the bench still sits there on the corner
advertising something.
advice for some young man in the year 2064 A.D.
let me speak as a friend
although the centuries hang
between us and neither you nor I
can see the moon
be careful less the onion blind the eye
or the snake sting
or the beetle posses the house
or the lover your wife
or the government your child
or the wine your will
or the doctor your heart
or the butchers your belly
or the cat your chair
or the lawyer your ignorance of the law
or the law dressed as a uniformed man and killing you.
dismiss perfection as an ache of the
greedy
but do not give in to the mass modesty of
easy perfection.
and remember
the belly of the whale is laden with
great men.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Charles Bukowski was “the ultimate outsider poet” (Alan Kaufman) “a solitary man and a courageous writer” (Spike Magazine), “a major-league tosspot” (The New York Times) and “a jerk” (Nick Cave). He once, admirably, made up a quote from Jean Genet that he was “America’s greatest poet.” Following Canongate’s reissue of The Pleasures of the Damned: Poems, 1951-1993 and the biography Locked in the Arms of a Crazy Life, 3:AM will be shortly running a feature on the poet’s life and legacy.
First published in 3:AM Magazine: Monday, January 25th, 2010.
This is an article from 3:AM Magazine.
Three Poems
By Charles Bukowski.
a poem is a city
a poem is a city filled with streets and sewers
filled with saints, heroes, beggars, madmen,
filled with banality and booze,
filled with rain and thunder and periods of
drought, a poem is a city at war,
a poem is a city asking a clock why,
a poem is a city burning,
a poem is a city under guns
its barbershops filled with cynical drunks,
a poem is a city where God rides naked
through the streets like Lady Godiva,
where dogs bark at night, and chase away
the flag; a poem is a city of poets,
most of them quite similar
and envious and bitter…
a poem is this city now,
50 miles from nowhere,
9:09 in the morning,
the taste of liquor and cigarettes,
no police, no lovers, walking the streets,
this poem, this city, closing its doors,
barricaded, almost empty,
mournful without tears, aging without pity,
the hardrock mountains,
the ocean like a lavendar flame,
a moon destitute of greatness,
a small music from broken windows…
a poem is a city, a poem is a nation,
a poem is the world…
and now I stick this under glass
for the mad editor’s scrutiny,
and night is elsewhere
and faint gray ladies stand in line,
dog follows dog to estuary,
the trumpets bring on the gallows
as small men rant at things
they cannot do.
the young man on the bus stop bench
he sits all day at the bus stop
at Sunset and Western
his sleeping bag beside him.
he’s dirty.
nobody bothers him.
people leave him alone.
the police leave him alone.
he could be the 2nd coming of Christ
but I doubt it.
the soles of his shoes are completely
gone.
he just laces the tops up
and sits and watches traffic.
I remember my own youthful days
(although I traveled lighter)
they were similar:
park benches
street corners
tarpaper shacks in Georgia for
$1.25 a week
not wanting the skid row church
hand-outs
too crazy to apply for relief
daytimes spent laying in public parks
bugs in the grass biting
looking into the sky
little insects whirling above my head
the breathing of white air
just breathing and waiting.
life becomes difficult:
being ignored
and ignoring.
everything turns into white air
the head fills with white air
and as invisible women sit in rooms
with successful bright-eyed young men
conversing brilliantly about everything
your sex drive
vanishes and it really
doesn’t matter.
you don’t want food
you don’t want shelter
you don’t want anything.
sometimes you die
sometimes you don’t.
as I drive past
the young man on the bus stop bench
I am comfortable in my automobile
I have money in two different banks
I own my own home
but he reminds me of my young self
and I want to help him
but I don’t know what to do.
today when I drove past again
he was gone
I suppose finally the world wasn’t
pleased with him being there.
the bench still sits there on the corner
advertising something.
advice for some young man in the year 2064 A.D.
let me speak as a friend
although the centuries hang
between us and neither you nor I
can see the moon
be careful less the onion blind the eye
or the snake sting
or the beetle posses the house
or the lover your wife
or the government your child
or the wine your will
or the doctor your heart
or the butchers your belly
or the cat your chair
or the lawyer your ignorance of the law
or the law dressed as a uniformed man and killing you.
dismiss perfection as an ache of the
greedy
but do not give in to the mass modesty of
easy perfection.
and remember
the belly of the whale is laden with
great men.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Charles Bukowski was “the ultimate outsider poet” (Alan Kaufman) “a solitary man and a courageous writer” (Spike Magazine), “a major-league tosspot” (The New York Times) and “a jerk” (Nick Cave). He once, admirably, made up a quote from Jean Genet that he was “America’s greatest poet.” Following Canongate’s reissue of The Pleasures of the Damned: Poems, 1951-1993 and the biography Locked in the Arms of a Crazy Life, 3:AM will be shortly running a feature on the poet’s life and legacy.
First published in 3:AM Magazine: Monday, January 25th, 2010.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
15 Brand Spanking New (At least, to here) Few Good Borrowed Images
From: http://tsutpen.blogspot.com/2009/08/joints-21.html
Joints #21-Ben Frank's
From: http://meowkitties.tumblr.com/post/177415848/pumpmylove-mick-jagger-in-drag-and-jerry-hall
Mick Jagger and ex-wife Jerry Hall. Copyright © Brigitte LaCombe
From: http://visualguidanceltd.blogspot.com/2009/09/are-you-jerry-lee-lewis-overheated.html
From: http://karlahoney.tumblr.com/post/203127080
From: http://janitoroflunacy.tumblr.com/post/210934205/raphael-delorme-1930
Raphael Delorme 1930
From: http://kvetchlandia.tumblr.com/post/209935208/masao-yamamoto-untitled-1256-undated
Masao Yamamoto Untitled #1256 Undated
From: http://tsutpen.blogspot.com/2009/10/when-legends-gather-552.html
When Legends Gather #552-Martha Raye, Johnny Mathis, Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland
From: http://janitoroflunacy.tumblr.com/post/215049436/eugene-grasset-morphine
Eugene Grasset ~ Morphine
From: http://www.iwasabducted.com/schroeder/satan.htm
This photograph of a creature resembling Satan was photographed by a friend of Paul Schroeder's wife while vacationing in the Middle East. Mrs. Schroeder's friend claims to have photographed an object of light in a cave, and did not see this creature until after the film was developed. For more information about this photo, please refer to the last paragraph of Alarm Clock Demons by Paul Schroeder at: http://www.iwasabducted.com/schroeder/demons.htm
From: http://lpcoverlover.com/2009/10/19/no-room-for-mirth-or-trifling-here/
“Born to Die” The Rodeheavers They look to be in some kind of sick, cult-of-the-damned, death pact. Born to Die is also a 1976 album by Grand Funk Railroad. And a 1763 poem by Charles Wesley:
And am I only born to die?
And must I suddenly comply
With nature’s stern decree?
What after death for me remains?
Celestial joys, or hellish pains,
To all eternity?
How then ought I on earth to live,
While God prolongs the kind reprieve
And props the house of clay?
My sole concern, my single care,
To watch, and tremble, and prepare
Against the fatal day.
No room for mirth or trifling here,
For worldly hope, or worldly fear,
If life so soon is gone:
If now the Judge is at the door,
And all mankind must stand before
The inexorable throne!
No matter which my thoughts employ,
A moment’s misery, or joy;
But O! when both shall end,
Where shall I find my destined place?
Shall I my everlasting days
With fiends, or angels spend?
From: http://sonoforigins.tumblr.com/post/213042188/via-www-anythinggauche-com
(VIA WWW.ANYTHINGGAUCHE.COM)
From: http://brainsteakbikini.blogspot.com/2009/10/dolls.html
January, 2001. "Una de las muñecas favoritas de Ivy es esta bonita reproducciôn en miniatura de Kim Novak, inspirada de su personaje del film "The Legend Of Lylah Claire".
Popular 1 Magazine.
From: http://nickdrake.tumblr.com/post/216791542/1912
1912
From: http://badbanana.typepad.com/weblog/2009/10/microbe-killer.html
William Radam was one of the most notorious 19th century snake oil salesmen in America. This distinctive logo, as well as his ambitious tagline "Cures All Diseases," makes his Microbe Killer tonic bottles a favorite of collectors today. (Via Morbid Anatomy.)
From: http://nickdrake.tumblr.com/post/217185286/bowie
Bowie
Joints #21-Ben Frank'sFrom: http://meowkitties.tumblr.com/post/177415848/pumpmylove-mick-jagger-in-drag-and-jerry-hall
Mick Jagger and ex-wife Jerry Hall. Copyright © Brigitte LaCombeFrom: http://visualguidanceltd.blogspot.com/2009/09/are-you-jerry-lee-lewis-overheated.html
From: http://karlahoney.tumblr.com/post/203127080
From: http://janitoroflunacy.tumblr.com/post/210934205/raphael-delorme-1930
Raphael Delorme 1930From: http://kvetchlandia.tumblr.com/post/209935208/masao-yamamoto-untitled-1256-undated
Masao Yamamoto Untitled #1256 UndatedFrom: http://tsutpen.blogspot.com/2009/10/when-legends-gather-552.html
When Legends Gather #552-Martha Raye, Johnny Mathis, Mickey Rooney and Judy GarlandFrom: http://janitoroflunacy.tumblr.com/post/215049436/eugene-grasset-morphine
Eugene Grasset ~ MorphineFrom: http://www.iwasabducted.com/schroeder/satan.htm
This photograph of a creature resembling Satan was photographed by a friend of Paul Schroeder's wife while vacationing in the Middle East. Mrs. Schroeder's friend claims to have photographed an object of light in a cave, and did not see this creature until after the film was developed. For more information about this photo, please refer to the last paragraph of Alarm Clock Demons by Paul Schroeder at: http://www.iwasabducted.com/schroeder/demons.htmFrom: http://lpcoverlover.com/2009/10/19/no-room-for-mirth-or-trifling-here/
“Born to Die” The Rodeheavers They look to be in some kind of sick, cult-of-the-damned, death pact. Born to Die is also a 1976 album by Grand Funk Railroad. And a 1763 poem by Charles Wesley:And am I only born to die?
And must I suddenly comply
With nature’s stern decree?
What after death for me remains?
Celestial joys, or hellish pains,
To all eternity?
How then ought I on earth to live,
While God prolongs the kind reprieve
And props the house of clay?
My sole concern, my single care,
To watch, and tremble, and prepare
Against the fatal day.
No room for mirth or trifling here,
For worldly hope, or worldly fear,
If life so soon is gone:
If now the Judge is at the door,
And all mankind must stand before
The inexorable throne!
No matter which my thoughts employ,
A moment’s misery, or joy;
But O! when both shall end,
Where shall I find my destined place?
Shall I my everlasting days
With fiends, or angels spend?
From: http://sonoforigins.tumblr.com/post/213042188/via-www-anythinggauche-com
(VIA WWW.ANYTHINGGAUCHE.COM)From: http://brainsteakbikini.blogspot.com/2009/10/dolls.html
January, 2001. "Una de las muñecas favoritas de Ivy es esta bonita reproducciôn en miniatura de Kim Novak, inspirada de su personaje del film "The Legend Of Lylah Claire".Popular 1 Magazine.
From: http://nickdrake.tumblr.com/post/216791542/1912
1912From: http://badbanana.typepad.com/weblog/2009/10/microbe-killer.html
William Radam was one of the most notorious 19th century snake oil salesmen in America. This distinctive logo, as well as his ambitious tagline "Cures All Diseases," makes his Microbe Killer tonic bottles a favorite of collectors today. (Via Morbid Anatomy.)From: http://nickdrake.tumblr.com/post/217185286/bowie
Bowie
Sunday, September 13, 2009
jim carroll talks aspirin 1991 + Praying Mantis
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVSA4X_wEoE&feature=player_embedded
http://nevergetoutoftheboat.blogspot.com/2009/09/jim-carroll.html
Never Get Out Of The Boat!
9.14.2009
Jim Carroll - Praying Mantis (1991)
Spoken Word From The Late Poet/Singer
Recorded live at St. Mark's Church, NYC. Worth owning just to hear Carroll's "Tiny Tortures" - a wicked recollection of JC's one night as a 17 year old performance artist. Jim Carroll died of a heart attack yesterday, September 13th. (@320)
Fragment: Little N.Y. Ode (0:24)
A Day At The Races (4:23)
Times Square's Cage (2:05)
A Child Growing Up With The Sun (1:54)
Tiny Tortures (11:25)
To The National Endowment Of The Arts (1:48)
Terrorist Trousers (2:36)
Monologue: The Loss Of American Innocence (13:42)
For Elizabeth (2:33)
Sampling Nietzsche (0:33)
Just Visiting (5:51)
Praying Mantis (1:22)
Posted by Willard
Please use link to original blogposting to find download link.
http://nevergetoutoftheboat.blogspot.com/2009/09/jim-carroll.html
Never Get Out Of The Boat!
9.14.2009
Jim Carroll - Praying Mantis (1991)
Spoken Word From The Late Poet/Singer
Recorded live at St. Mark's Church, NYC. Worth owning just to hear Carroll's "Tiny Tortures" - a wicked recollection of JC's one night as a 17 year old performance artist. Jim Carroll died of a heart attack yesterday, September 13th. (@320)
Fragment: Little N.Y. Ode (0:24)A Day At The Races (4:23)
Times Square's Cage (2:05)
A Child Growing Up With The Sun (1:54)
Tiny Tortures (11:25)
To The National Endowment Of The Arts (1:48)
Terrorist Trousers (2:36)
Monologue: The Loss Of American Innocence (13:42)
For Elizabeth (2:33)
Sampling Nietzsche (0:33)
Just Visiting (5:51)
Praying Mantis (1:22)
Posted by Willard
Please use link to original blogposting to find download link.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Lo Fi Bukowski animation
Lo Fi Bukowski animation
by Judashammer
http://www.vimeo.com/3195620
I took the poem LOGS by Charles Bukowski and animated the source. Then I add the track to bring a new style to poetry. Hopefully I can bring Bukowski to a new generation.
http://www.vimeo.com/3472893
Second in the animated series of Bukowski poetry.
by Judashammer
http://www.vimeo.com/3195620
LOGS by Charles Bukowski from Judas on Vimeo.
I took the poem LOGS by Charles Bukowski and animated the source. Then I add the track to bring a new style to poetry. Hopefully I can bring Bukowski to a new generation.
http://www.vimeo.com/3472893
Bukowski---LOVe from Judas on Vimeo.
Second in the animated series of Bukowski poetry.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
MIKELK: I out drank Charles Bukowski
http://open.salon.com/blog/mikelkpoet/2009/06/22/i_outdrank_charles_bukowski
http://stores.lulu.com/mikelkpoet
FROM ATLANTA POET: MIKELK
I out drank Charles Bukowski
I want to have sex with her
but she’s not here, today,
and, besides, she’s married.
That wouldn’t have stopped Charles Bukowski, would it?
Obviously, I am not Charles Bukowski,
even though that one fellow in that one copy shop
on that one day that I was making
one copy of one little book
that I had assembled for one female friend
said that I wrote like Charles Bukowski.
And I said, "who is that?" and, of course,
once I found out, I headed off to the B section
of poetry in the bookstores
and found out that this fellow had slept with more hookers
and lived in more rooming houses than I had
though I am not sure that he drank more than I did
though I think that he drank until he dropped,
and I have stopped drinking, so I out drank Charles Bukowski.
--1996
http://stores.lulu.com/mikelkpoet
FROM ATLANTA POET: MIKELK
I out drank Charles Bukowski
I want to have sex with her
but she’s not here, today,
and, besides, she’s married.
That wouldn’t have stopped Charles Bukowski, would it?
Obviously, I am not Charles Bukowski,
even though that one fellow in that one copy shop
on that one day that I was making
one copy of one little book
that I had assembled for one female friend
said that I wrote like Charles Bukowski.
And I said, "who is that?" and, of course,
once I found out, I headed off to the B section
of poetry in the bookstores
and found out that this fellow had slept with more hookers
and lived in more rooming houses than I had
though I am not sure that he drank more than I did
though I think that he drank until he dropped,
and I have stopped drinking, so I out drank Charles Bukowski.
--1996
Saturday, June 13, 2009
C. Bukowski / A DRINK FOR A LADY ON TALENT NIGHT - BORDER, Vol.1, No.3
http://bukowski.net/forum/showthread.php?t=5776
A DRINK FOR A LADY ON TALENT NIGHT - BORDER, Vol.1, No.3
BORDER, Vol.1, No.3, edited by Wayne Philpott (Fort Smith, AR: Border Press, July 1965) First edition, stapled sheets with library tape binding, mimeograph. Contributors include: d.a. levy, Douglas Blazek, Judson Crews, Roger Sauls, Charles Bukowski ["A DRINK FOR A LADY ON TALENT NIGHT"].
Couldn't find this one in the database or in the usual checklists and bibliographies.
A DRINK FOR A LADY ON TALENT NIGHT - BORDER, Vol.1, No.3
BORDER, Vol.1, No.3, edited by Wayne Philpott (Fort Smith, AR: Border Press, July 1965) First edition, stapled sheets with library tape binding, mimeograph. Contributors include: d.a. levy, Douglas Blazek, Judson Crews, Roger Sauls, Charles Bukowski ["A DRINK FOR A LADY ON TALENT NIGHT"].
Couldn't find this one in the database or in the usual checklists and bibliographies.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Time for Additional Good Borrowed Literary Images
From: A Damn Good Read
“I was hooked. I couldn’t put it down until I finished…. I was simply impressed that these were real, instantly recognizable people…poor lonely bastards of every stripe resorting to utter humiliation and personal endangerment in the barest hope of hooking up with a kindred spirit. It’s a brave book with a great deal of heart.” —Poppy Z. Brite
From: ???
From: ErosBlog: The Sex Blog
From: skull swap blog
More from: skull swap
From: ???
From: Reg Manning
From: it's deadlicious™
“I was hooked. I couldn’t put it down until I finished…. I was simply impressed that these were real, instantly recognizable people…poor lonely bastards of every stripe resorting to utter humiliation and personal endangerment in the barest hope of hooking up with a kindred spirit. It’s a brave book with a great deal of heart.” —Poppy Z. BriteFrom: ???
From: ErosBlog: The Sex Blog
From: skull swap blog
More from: skull swap
From: ???
From: Reg Manning
From: it's deadlicious™
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