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#006: F.U.C.K. Anthology I
[F.U.C.K. is an e-zine that I started on January 24, 1993 and ended on January 24, 2000. One concept is that articles should be timeless if possible, so they were not released with dates. As such, the date on this blog is not exact but I will try to use a date as close as…
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#005: The BackYard
[F.U.C.K. is an e-zine that I started on January 24, 1993 and ended on January 24, 2000. One concept is that articles should be timeless if possible, so they were not released with dates. As such, the date on this blog is not exact but I will try to use a date as close as…
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#002: Shock Value
[F.U.C.K. is an e-zine that I started on January 24, 1993 and ended on January 24, 2000. One concept is that articles should be timeless if possible, so they were not released with dates. As such, the date on this blog is not exact but I will try to use a date as close as…
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#001: F.U.C.K. – Starter
What is F.U.C.K. you ask? Ok. So you don’t. You probably think it a bunch of losers that write stupid text files about boring shit right? Ha! wrong. Actually, the group is really small right now as it is just forming but that doesn’t mean the quality of the files will be down or boring.…
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Poetry: Nothing but impressed was I at first
Nothing but impressed was I at first,Expected so little, yet received the worst,One fell swoop was all it tookto make me take a second look. At first everything seemed to work out all right.I looked forward to talking each night.You seemed so different, special, and great.Never could I find a reason to hate.I let down…
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Poetry: Dissecting a Poem
[This was published in the Spring of 1991 in the New Mexico English Journal.] The Poem,Sitting there, dead.The Poem,IT is no longer read.As it lies on the table, it makes no movement, it spreads no joy.I get the boring task of cutting it open and pulling out the guts.It doesn’t matter if a noun or…
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Poetry: They Say…
They say the world is great… Forget about famine and hunger,Forget about racism and war,Forget about ecology and resources,All the countries are like that.There are too many ethnic barriers that can’t be broken.Too many countries act on their own. They say you should be proud to be an American…No. Not me. Not from what I’ve…
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Poetry: Passed By
He lay adorned in blood.Bones stay broken… maybe forever…Never healing from the pain and agony.Beaten, rebeaten, abused, and reabused.A black man lies on the street almost dead.Many pass by without a glance.He looks up… to see a white man laughing.He wants to cry, but can’t.No help…No help anywhere.Shame…Shame to all those foolish mortals… white mortals.They…
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Poetry: The End
The End.The End is near. Survival?Survival is impossible… unpratical… illogical…There is no escape… from death…There will be no spared lives…To live is to live in pain… agony… slow death.The world will remain but the people will not.You cannot survive the End.Do not feel sorry.Do not mourn for the dead ones.The people will be dead… the…