Poet Exhumed

man sleeping at desk

To some, writing sucks. To others, dying while writing sucks more. To most, dying while writing poetry sucks the hardest.

It was perfectly apropos that the barely known poet, Clifton Frost, no relation, was found dead at his writing desk face down on a sole sheet of paper, pen in hand. Days before, he had made a formal announcement, a drunken boast at the neighborhood bar that he was abandoning post-modernism for the much more respected classical form. No one really understood what he meant, nor did they care.

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“Poetry On The Leaves” by MANY POETS Vs. ADRIAN YOUNGE

Word Jazz
This mash up includes Gwendolyn Brooks reading “We Real Cool”, Dave McKnight’s reading of e.e. cummings, “jack hates all the girls”, Tony Randall’s reading of Merrill Moore’s “What She Did In The Morning”, and Donald Harron reading David Ignatow’s “The Bagel”.

Dedicated to Ken Nordine and Peter Tork.

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It Is Too Bad Kavanaugh Doesn’t Rhyme With Smug Privileged Asshole Liar


This horrific no-look pass is the greatest sports blooper of the decade.

My intention was to chronicle the demise of American democracy using the classic form of art, the epic poem. I wanted to heighten the moment in the vein of Homer’s “Iliad” or T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland” or Pauly Shore’s “He Who Farts Loudest Has The Final Laugh”. Sadly, I do not have the time or the rhymes necessary to take on such a large task for a mere audience of six or so.

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