by Warren Gaston | Nov 8, 2019
I am writing a poem trying not to be clever. Can I do it, maybe not, but never say never. I will be parsimonious with multi-syllabic words like nevertheless and whatsoever. Also I will not use short single syllable words like shit or turds, not because they are long...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 2, 2019
The hardest part of learning is the unlearning. It takes years for the mind to loosen its grip on sweet poisons, the accumulation of stagnant information and stultified facts, the rubble of theories and concepts, sediment in the brain, a sleepwalker stuck in freshly...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 30, 2019
I will never grow old. No. I will never grow old. I will age, yes, of course, accumulating minutes like molecules stored in the matter of my body until now I am fat with time. It’s too late for me to grow old. I was born old, a corporeal lump of galactic matter,, an ...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 27, 2019
The girl in the fast-food drive-up window doesn’t know me, has no obligation to feed me, doesn’t care if I am hungry, doesn’t give a damn about the small earthquake in my stomach as my hands grip the steering wheel and I point my car toward the largess of her...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 25, 2019
I worship Christ, I worship Jehovah, I worship Pan, I worship Aphrodite. But I do not worship hands nailed and running with blood upon a cross, nor licentiousness, nor lust. I want them all, all the gods. They are all God. But I must serve in real love. If I take...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 22, 2019
Genesis I saw my father’s house in the country, Adams County, Ohio. He was born there in his parents’ bed after the harvest. written in 1973 _________________________________________________________________________ Today is my father Rev. Fred Taylor Gaston’s...
