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Cerebral Contents:
Update for 05.13.08:
Male Model by Phil Doran
Set to Replay by Willie Smith
Backsliding by Cynthia Ruth Lewis
Tree by G. David Schwartz
05.05.08:
Disintegration by Don Hucks
Five Feet and Building by Joel Van Noord
Grocery Aisle by Richard Lighthouse
Cross the Road by Ashok Niyogi
04.29.08:
Lookalikes by Phil Doran
Dinner by Brandi Wells
The Modern Covenant by Daniel E. Wilcox
Death by Onions by Michael Frissore
04.21.08:
Future's Children by Kimberly Raiser
Identity Theft by George Anderson
The Datists by Adam Engel
A Great Deal of Money by Justin Hyde
04.14.08:
Mr. Papaya and Dale by Eric Suhem
California by Caroline Imreibe
Aftermath of Vehement Argument #1,068 by Cynthia Ruth Lewis
Trip-Hammer Vitality by Lisa Nickerson
04.07.08:
The Florence of Basel, or Why Readers of Nietzsche Need to Read Burckhardt by Jeff Crouch
Slideshow by Miles J. Bell
Friends of the Poet by Sean C. Bowen
Picture Perfect by Leah Baldwin
03.24.08:
The Streak by Jeremy Hendrix
Grab Your Butts by Emme Hor
Far Away by Ashok Niyogi
Staring Down a White-Tailed Doe by Aleathia Drehmer
03.17.08:
The Hairbrush by Vernard Kennedy
Dog Days of Winter by Niall Berkeley
Poem From My Grave by Michael Lee Johnson
Mashed Potatoes and Hamburgers by Matt Finney
03.10.08:
Hard Work by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
Jetty Cake Pigs by J.D. Nelson
I'm Quiet in Bed by Moctezuma Johnson
Tequila Shakes by Richard Lighthouse |
Cool or Not
by Sean C. Bowen
Now how would I know what is considered "cool" or not?
what a silly question
1. I'm just a guy who likes the way silk panties and nylon hose
feel on his cock
who still buys his herb from the Jamaicans downtown because he can't find
a steady hook
likes to stand around and listen to them say things like
"wudda gwan" & "rasclot"
take in the smell of jerk chicken and curry goat
2. Stealing aerosol is art to me
once carried out the order to deface every surface available to me and
unsecured
like in the late '80s when I took that bus ride to NYC
sat there nervous and desperate in the seat with my hood up
the man sitting next to me played some country & western song
that I could barely hear coming from his headphones
went something like
"remember when Coke was a cola and a joint was a bad place to be"
it was all cool
even when the Indian on 42nd street told me
"this I.D. will work anywhere I assure you"
while I scribed my name in the counter and watched him laminate the card
in plastic from behind
stepped out that door a new man
a "man" now for the first time, for that matter
but the pushers still drove a hard bargain
took me for all I had
was broke within an hour
had to find a transit cop... ran up to him
"I've been robbed!"
"all happened at Grand Central by a gang of black kids"
that's how I got the free train home.
______________________________________
With several small press publication credits to date he
constructs some of the most wonderfully twisted writing without all the
rules. Thought provoking & brutally honest. Sometimes erotic or even
down right dirty. All of the time real. This describes
Sean C. Bowen's writings on the everyday thoughts that course through
the human animal. Urban writing of the highest calibre, full of nasty
fibre and calories; skeletal and street level like the best Velvet Underground
or Lou Reed. myspace.com/yeskone.
posted 12.17.07.
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