Home   |  Captain's Log  |  About  |  Random  |  Pictures  |  Links  | Contact Me
WORDS TO LIVE BY

In fact, the mere act of opening the box will determine the state of the cat, although in this case there were three determinate states the cat could be in: these being Alive, Dead, and Bloody Furious. -- Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies

YOUR DAILY DOSE

James Lileks - The Bleat
The Onion
Satire Wire
Tim Blair, A Blog
VodkaPundit
Ken Layne
Hittman Chronicle
#usr/bin/girl
Little Green Footballs
Instapundit
Virginia Postrel
TechCentral
Best of the Web
The Corner
Jonah Goldberg
Overlawyered
Dave Kopel
Kausfiles
Talking Points
Joanne Jacobs
Michael Barone
Andrew Sullivan
Pundit Watch
Matt Welch
Adragna & Vehrs
Patrick Ruffini
Bjorn Staerk
Fredrik Norman
Andrea See
Frank Cagle
Jerry Pournelle
Rand Simberg
SpinSanity
Charles Johnson
Samizdata
SmarterTimes
U.S.S. Clueless
The Occasional
UThant.Com
RealClear Politics
Damian Penny
Hollywood Investigator
Natalie Solent
Shiloh Bucher
Jeff Jarvis NanoDot
Sgt. Stryker
Listen Missy
The Daily Dose
Joshua Trevino
Doc Searls
Charles Murtaugh
NewsRack
Wil Wheaton
Think Geek
Cows with Guns
This Modern World
BB Spot
Fark
Retrocrush
IMockery
Something Awful
Obey Giant
Unrealistic Expectations
The Editing Room

                     more...
RECOMMENDED SITES


The ISF Players
Halve Mein Hash
Missing - Suzanne Lyall

Arc
Sounding Board
CRUMBS

Pumpkin Masters
Emotion Eric

Sluggy Freelance
Dilbert
Sinfest
User Friendly
PVP Online
                     more...

DESK TOP POP CAN COUNT


Currently: 234 Cans



Site Update Log
Site Map
Web Site Resume

Random Works Index

 
<< Previous Work >> Next Work
Ode to Blood

blood
engorged, i am filled with it
it runs in sweet rivers from deep caverns
thin rivulets trace downwards, along your thighs
blood
soaking my beard and my senses
scrubbing clean this fleshy canvas
upon which we paint life with our sighs
blood
our copulation is framed in pleasure
i am your painted lover
i wear upon my skin a red tatoo of you
blood
as natural and beautiful as life
it is the meat we live in
it is the heat at the center of our joining
blood
this fruit, this gift,
this eraser, this bacchian joy
it covers me; it fills you, too
ah, blood

<< Previous Work >> Next Work


  Home  |  Captain's Log  |  About  |  Message Board  |  Random  |  Pictures  |  Links  |  Contact Me
Site Design by: Don, The infinitely prolonged Copyright 2002 Don Howe. All Rights Reserved