|By _Blackjack on Sunday, January 06, 2002 - 03:05 pm: Edit|
Guiliani's problem was that he treated everything like it was a life-threatening crisis, be it homeless people, pissing on the sidewalk, or blasphemous dung-art. Once he had an actual lief-threatening crisis to face, he was in his element and has been doing a fine job.
I am curious to see how New York will evolve because of this. I understand people have started (gaspe) talking to their neighbors on the elevator and other heartofor unheard of things.
Once I'm out of debt (and figure out where to stash my car), I plan to move back. Hopefully there will be some smelly apartments in Tribeca going for a good price...
(Sure it stinks of death, but it's got hardwood floors...)
|By Larsbogart on Thursday, January 03, 2002 - 10:35 pm: Edit|
THE END OF NEW YORK
THE END OF NEW YORK CAME ON A DAY
THAT WAS AS GREY AS THE HAIR
ON THE MAYOR OF NEW YORK.
HE TURNED OFF THE SPEAKERS,
TURNED UP THE LIGHTS
AND THE CORNERS SHONE WHITE
FOR A BETTER QUALITY OF LIFE.
AND THE NIGHT DIDNT FALL ANYMORE,
CLOSED WAS A WORD ON EACH DOOR.
NO MORE DANCING,
NO MORE DRINKING,
AND NOBODY CALLING FOR MORE.
ONLY TEARS FOR THE HUSTLER,
THE STRIPPER, THE WHORE.
AND FUNERAL PURPLE
AND BLACK TO MOURN
WAS THE COAT THAT I WORE
AT THE END OF NEW YORK.
AND THERE AT A MIRROR
THE SKELETAL MAYOR,
APPLYING RED LIPSTICK
AND GOLD NYLON HAIR,
SMILES A CHILL SMILE,
A DEATHLY GRIMACE
FOR THE PLACE THEY CALLED NEW YORK.
[man of the year?]
|By Larsbogart on Thursday, January 03, 2002 - 09:06 pm: Edit|
TERANCE SELLERS TOTURE CHAMBER
2.00 TERANCE [ALIAS ANGEL STERN] IS NEW YORKS MOST FAMOUS DOMINATRIX AND AUTHOR OF A BOOK, THE CORRECT SADIST. ALOOF, BEAUTIFUL, FLAME HAIRED AND DRESSED IN BLACK, SHE INVITES US TO VIEW HER HOUSE OF TORTURE AND TO MEET THE LADIES WHO WORK THERE. INSIDE THE ELEGANT HOUSE BEHIND UNASSUMING DOORS IS HER SECRET WORLD-DECORATED MINIMALLY, ROOMS STYLISHLY PAINTED IN BLACK AND GREY AND RED. THERE IS A HUGE RACK, A FOUR POSTER BED ON WHICH TO SHACKLE CLIENTS, SOME STOCKS, AND LAID OUT LIKE SURGICAL INSTRUMENTS, TWIGS, CANES AND RODS FOR THE BUISNESSMANS PLEASURE. MISTRESS STERN OPENS A WARDROBE IN WHICH HANG VARIOUS OUTFITS AND UNIFORMS. AMONG THE REGULATION FANTASY WEAR NESTLES A LITTLE FRILLY PINK DRESS TO FIT A YOUNG GIRL OF NINE OR TEN. "THIS IS OUR MOST POPULAR FANTASY OUTFIT" MISTRESS STERN TELLS US. "THE BUISNESSMEN JUST LOVE TO TRY AND SQUEEZE INTO IT"
THE END OF NEW YORK
|By Larsbogart on Thursday, January 03, 2002 - 02:46 pm: Edit|
chrysy: then may i suggest "the songlines" by bruce chatwin?
|By Larsbogart on Thursday, January 03, 2002 - 02:38 pm: Edit|
thank you vera. i so agree with marc almond that rudy giuliani ruined new york city. when the real whores took over times square [been there lately?] all the color was drained from the streets. what i wouldnt give for all the filth to come back. somehow barbra walters and diane sawyer on the rooftops with their magazine shows, [and the biggest fattest whore of all MTV] times square was never about any of that. or disney...grimy floors and dirty talk..watch the puddles where you walk-sweat and amyl, coke and cum, crowded corners..fun for some...
|By Mr_Carfax on Thursday, January 03, 2002 - 02:31 pm: Edit|
makes a nice change to duets with gene pitney
|By Verawench on Thursday, January 03, 2002 - 01:50 pm: Edit|
Leave him alone.
He's my HRU (Head Replacement Unit).
|By Chrysippvs on Thursday, January 03, 2002 - 01:38 pm: Edit|
say beautiful poetry is dead...
|By Artist on Thursday, January 03, 2002 - 01:22 pm: Edit|
You do what?
|By Chrysippvs on Thursday, January 03, 2002 - 01:13 pm: Edit|
|By Larsbogart on Thursday, January 03, 2002 - 12:27 pm: Edit|
an early birthday present arrived in the mail today. it is marc almonds new cd titled "the end of new york". if you are an "america's mayor" fan you better delete this now, as the cd is all spoken word poetry devoted to the ruination of new york by rudy giuliani. i suggest you try and find it. especially you vera, since you will probably be the only one who reads this.
CHRISTOPHER STREET PIER
THERES A GREAT PAIR OF TITS
AND COCKS THE AMERICAN WAY-
REAL BIG AND THICK AND CUT.
BIG COCKS, AND ALL ON ONE GUY.
THE PIER IS STEAMNG THIS AFTERNOON.
A GORGEOUS PUERTO RICAN GIRL
PLAYS WITH HER HAIR
SPLAYS HER LEGS
AND WINKS AT THE SUN.
A HONCHO WITH A HANDLEBAR
DOESNT LOOK TWICE.
HE LIKES THE BIG CUT COCKS,
HES GOT ONE OF HIS OWN.
COULDNT GIVE A DEAD DONKEYS DICK
FOR THE GREAT PAIR OF TITS.
ITS ALIVE ON THE PIER
IN THE SLIMY HEAT.
[AT THE BOTTOM OF CHRISTOPER STREET]
NEW JERSEY YAHOOS
SPEED BY IN THEIR BOATS.
THE HEAT DOES THINGS TO THE MIND
THE WATER SLAPS THE PIERS ASS
AND A TORSO GLIDES BY
ARM WAVING OUT THE SLIMY WATER,
TWISTING THE CLOUDS
BETWEEN BLUE FINGERS
[LIKE THE STRANDS OF THE GORGEOUS PUERTO RICAN GIRLS BLUE BLACK HAIR]
THEN THEY SEE THOSE TITS,
AND WHO CAN BLAME EM?
AS I SMOTHER IN THOSE
FLESHPOTS OF WONDER,
THEY CRASH THE BOAT
AND DROWN IN THE HUDSON.
THEIR TORSOS GLIDE BY,
ARMS A WAVIN',
BYE BYE FUCKERS
and who said beautiful poetry is dead?
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