https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/category-1618-week-of-nbsp-01-26-09 en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Tue, 09 Jun 2026 11:04:58 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10872-congratulations-to-laurie-blum-published-in https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10872-congratulations-to-laurie-blum-published-in http://chicagopoetry.com/modul...rticle&sid=1191 Leanne Hanson Agents, Publishing, Promotion, and Writing Tue, 28 Aug 2012 01:08:14 GMT /section-364-agents-publishing-promotion-and-writing#comments 4 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10872 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10872 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10872 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10914-denominations https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10914-denominations                                                Christ, everything is divided arb istrarily. Bodies of water, Cont inents - faith. No wonder there is war. At the tippiest tip of Africa's top piest top, I swam and dreamed toge ther with sharks and seals. Halle luia the water is warm. Christ, everything is crashingto getherar bitrarilyContinentseas faith. The sharks digest the seals in the warm water while At the bottom, where the clams walk and watch my feet with both eyes, War is peaceful. Everything drifts. ... more Stephan Anstey Almighty God or Something Mon, 13 Apr 2009 04:22:48 GMT /section-708-almighty-god-or-something#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10914 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10914 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10914 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10867-long-island-book-review https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10867-long-island-book-review www.longislandbookreview.blogspot.com Leanne Hanson Agents, Publishing, Promotion, and Writing Tue, 31 Mar 2009 00:34:07 GMT /section-364-agents-publishing-promotion-and-writing#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10867 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10867 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10867 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10928-lupus https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10928-lupus Girl of Hept Mercieca, Andrew MosquitoBytes Volume 06: Decried Deity - 2005 Fri, 30 Jan 2009 22:47:27 GMT /section-628-mosquitobytes-volume-06-decried#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10928 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10928 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10928 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10927-blind https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10927-blind Girl of Hept Mercieca, Andrew MosquitoBytes Volume 06: Decried Deity - 2005 Fri, 30 Jan 2009 22:46:29 GMT /section-628-mosquitobytes-volume-06-decried#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10927 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10927 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10927 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10926-forensic https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10926-forensic Girl of Hept Mercieca, Andrew MosquitoBytes Volume 06: Decried Deity - 2005 Fri, 30 Jan 2009 22:43:30 GMT /section-628-mosquitobytes-volume-06-decried#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10926 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10926 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10926 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10925-indigent https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10925-indigent Girl of Hept Mercieca, Andrew MosquitoBytes Volume 06: Decried Deity - 2005 Fri, 30 Jan 2009 22:41:44 GMT /section-628-mosquitobytes-volume-06-decried#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10925 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10925 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10925 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10924-flux https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10924-flux Girl of Hept Mercieca, Andrew MosquitoBytes Volume 06: Decried Deity - 2005 Fri, 30 Jan 2009 22:40:44 GMT /section-628-mosquitobytes-volume-06-decried#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10924 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10924 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10924 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10923-tundra https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10923-tundra Girl of Hept Mercieca, Andrew MosquitoBytes Volume 06: Decried Deity - 2005 Fri, 30 Jan 2009 22:39:25 GMT /section-628-mosquitobytes-volume-06-decried#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10923 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10923 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10923 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10920-perception-becomes-reality https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10920-perception-becomes-reality Pin the donkey's tail to my fat butt please. but do not tell my children it is not mine. Let them believe that I am the lard ass with the tail to tell them what to do. Let them dream about riding me away. Let them hunt for my remains in the clouds and laugh, "there's dad, see the tail?" Stephan Anstey Vertically Challenged Poetry Fri, 30 Jan 2009 02:34:54 GMT /section-664-vertically-challenged-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10920 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10920 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10920 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10919-kool-aid https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10919-kool-aid I expected thin red soda to explode like a million bubbles sweet, sugary empty calories painted upon the body in a cloud of frustration, but it fell flat into the tall glass full of ice then slid smooth into the thirsty throat. Stephan Anstey Bam. Pooritics & suck Fri, 30 Jan 2009 02:10:46 GMT /section-706-bam.-pooritics-suck#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10919 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10919 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10919 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10918-dirge-for-america https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10918-dirge-for-america Hope has died across this opaque land where none will dare or understand. The endless snow, and broken thoughts the principles that we've forgot/ Old dear America, she's dead, she's gone an empty vessel for what went wrong a home for slaves to wage and stolen fruit the million strong who got the boot Audacious hope for freedom's touch embrace the lie - you have too much a home, a car, gadgets, and gidgets too everything except anything that might be true America, she dead, she's buried cold a rotting corpse bejeweled in mold The endless dirge of health and state of hopeless hope and a man too great -- too audacious to fail or fall The one, the only, best of us all. At home in our greatest sins with wordless words and empty wins Wretched America, I wail for thee for all you were to men like me The endless joy of spacious land the perfect tribute to God's perfect plan With you, now all hope has passed today, I see the you've breathed your last I have no home, no dreams or faith - I can not see my freedom's wraith America, the dust of justice blows across your breast then goes past the moon, in starlight displayed the only place your flag still waves Truth's a lie and Hope has ended nothing's left that can be mended Audacious dreams, Spacious skies, perhaps it was just pretty lies Oh America, I can not see the dawn's light or opportunity The brave are weeping loudly, for the banner they defended proudly I did not hear your whimpered breath when you took our liberty to your death and left us with these fools and frauds alone to live without our Gods America, America, you sad dead place I weep for you, in your disgrace. ... more Stephan Anstey Bam. Pooritics & suck Fri, 30 Jan 2009 01:46:10 GMT /section-706-bam.-pooritics-suck#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10918 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10918 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10918 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10916-in-augury https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10916-in-augury                                           even cooked, i do not care for the taste of rotting fowl i will not swallow this and call it delicacy. Wait! The entrails speak: I am dead. Fuck you. Stephan Anstey Bam. Pooritics & suck Thu, 29 Jan 2009 21:59:10 GMT /section-706-bam.-pooritics-suck#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10916 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10916 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10916 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10915-america https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10915-america Her fingertips cry out like swirling paintings of free-form thoughts the cold touch of despair and the memory of a song without lyrics. Alleluia, God is Good, here where there is no God. Alleluia, God is Great, here where hope is the Lie. Her eyes are closed tightly like a jaw in rigor mortis waiting to rot away the stubborn notion of freedom the principles of fore bearers and forbearance. Alleluia, God is Good, here where we mourn Godless Alleluia, God is Great, here where slavery is the Truth. Stephan Anstey Bam. Pooritics & suck Thu, 29 Jan 2009 21:57:56 GMT /section-706-bam.-pooritics-suck#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10915 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10915 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10915 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10913-a-muse-in-the-night-see-em https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10913-a-muse-in-the-night-see-em                                   From high atop the rickety chairs the delicate shadows of a broom and of Barbara chasing a mouse around the table. The sound of almost breaking and a blur of eyes whirring around the exits. Displays, signs pointing, crazed light, and a scream. The hard hopeless dash of sin and skin across hardwood fur, tail, get out get out and then the hole truth of it all, in the moiling black around the moon. She shatters a fragile sigh like lightbulb pop a spectacle a shimmer a seething flying hope for the stars and the discounted admission to certain knowledge Barbara, Barbara, breathe your soul is saved your heart beats the mouse in the house is gone. Free at last Free at last Free at alst. ... more Stephan Anstey Semi-Sweet & Chaulky Thu, 29 Jan 2009 21:54:21 GMT /section-665-semi-sweet-chaulky#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10913 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10913 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10913 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10912-perception-becomes-reality https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10912-perception-becomes-reality                                 Pin the donkey's tail to my fat butt please. but do not tell my children it is not mine. Let them believe that I am the lard ass with the tail to tell them what to do. Let them dream about riding me away. Let them hunt for my remains in the clouds and laugh, "there's dad, see the tail?" Stephan Anstey Semi-Sweet & Chaulky Thu, 29 Jan 2009 21:52:52 GMT /section-665-semi-sweet-chaulky#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10912 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10912 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10912 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10911-a-night-at-the-museum https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10911-a-night-at-the-museum                                    Melanie told me how bones are nothing but a waste of space how a body is the silent embrace of man around his soul so I said to her, "I guess. But a dinosaur's still dead." Melanie does not exist except as a trees in jungle far away except as the memory of a million feet running along the fold so when I say to her, "I guess." She's becomes a dinosaur's head. Melanie hates the way I break bones of words right in her face the way I fillet the notions of illogical oceans in a porcelain bowl so I say to her, "I guess it's bad but the dinosaur's still dead." Melanie told me how sand is nothing but an endless waste how a kiss is  the same, but still we think it'll make us whole so I said to her, "I guess." and watched her believe what the dinosaur just said. Melanie does not exist except as a fossil of some heart's disgrace except as the dust's cold rage on display for dear dear folks untold so I said to her, "I guess. But the dinosaur's still dead." ... more Stephan Anstey Polly Wogs & Churlish Goofiness Thu, 29 Jan 2009 21:51:16 GMT /section-704-polly-wogs-churlish-goofiness#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10911 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10911 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10911 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10910-sloppy-slippy-slap-stick-sick.-sick.-sick. https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10910-sloppy-slippy-slap-stick-sick.-sick.-sick.             I join with Julie long and late at night to mock the words so ill-imagined by the jumbled minds of masses and eat hard cheese and drink red wine I join with Jill late each morn to cackle at the piddled words unsaid philosophize and plot and plan joyful melancholy for those walking dead I join with Joan before each dinner to giggle on the breasts of almost poems the graceless dances of waifish wan then waltz below another starlit dome I join with Julie then again to mock and sing and sigh and cringe Stephan Anstey Polly Wogs & Churlish Goofiness Thu, 29 Jan 2009 21:50:35 GMT /section-704-polly-wogs-churlish-goofiness#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10910 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10910 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10910 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10909-winter https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10909-winter                                                        I am a man on a couch made of marble and I must describe the emptiness of stone to explain the couch. Though you stare, this story is illegible, hard, desperate. I sit alone, breaking on the white of these arms I am a man, this couch is hard and cold. For you I must describe the chiseled edges to explain the couch. Though you reach, this fact is untouchable, cruel, distant. I sit alone, aching on the chipped creases I am a man on a couch made of marble and I must describe the meaning of the couch to explain the marble. Though you dream, this sleep is empty, cold, deviant. I am a couch beneath a man, empty and distant and cold. ... more Stephan Anstey Naturally Thu, 29 Jan 2009 21:47:37 GMT /section-707-naturally#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10909 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10909 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10909 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10908-jasmine-tea https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-10908-jasmine-tea                                                 The cast-iron kettle steams a choir of voiceless stars truer than us. They lurch in desperation toward God, for one songed sorry kiss wait above the green as if heaven is what grows below the art of shadows a howling monster of melody from which angels soar to love us in the prudent conniption of blindness and dawn. You touch the green of your eyes to my lips. I am man. The cerulean cup holds armless naked clouds bigger than us. They race in circles, kiss the wide brim, wait above the green as if heaven is what grows below the bold and steeping earth a windless winding slip of sip from which angels escape to love us in the reckless calm of reflection and sunset. I lift the hazel of my eyes to see you. You are woman. Two tongues entwined around the memory of leaves and honey. The head, the breath, the scent of tea and a whisper. ... more Stephan Anstey Semi-Sweet & Chaulky Thu, 29 Jan 2009 21:31:31 GMT /section-665-semi-sweet-chaulky#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/10908 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/10908 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A10908