Glistening red ruby Softness still. An ultimate haiku. Her lips.

First off, they should have titled this game: Usability Disaster Skating: Punishment 8 I haven't really been into the Tony Hawk franchise of games since, oh, ... college; (I won't date myself by telling you how long ago that was--or the versions of the games I played, for that matter). Suffice it to say, Neversoft has finally ridden this franchise into an ugly nosedive, ala skateboarding on gravel. It's difficult to say why. Some might say the original audience for the game has mostly outgrow...

Glistening red, ruby softness, still. An ultimate haiku. Your lips.

My elbows hurt, but there aren’t any seats left inside the crammed waiting room, and they don’t let you smoke in there anyway. I’m leaning on the black iron railing along the upstairs walkway — outside of the free clinic — checking out the newly-paved parking lot through my veil of cigarette smoke, looking west, across the whole city of Denver: past the bright glass skyscrapers that poke through the smog like syringes. The snow-covered mountains along the horizon look like some dead person co...

I Aint gonna have no Merican dream aint gonna have no merican dream aint gonna kill Iraqis for no merican dream aint gonna kill Vietcong for no merican dream aint gonna kill mom for no merican dream aint gonna kill Commies for no merican dream aint gonna drop boms for no merican dream aint gonna kill dad for no merican dream aint gonna kill ozone for no merican dream aint gonna kill peace for no merican dream aint gonna kill God for no merican dream aint gonna die for no merican dream aint go...

He takes a second to swerve out of his shirt, to flex his spidery tattoos as he shoots, packing megatons of anger for an innocent 3 ball, without a jigger of finesse. Rage, vented so it oozes from his head to his boots. Waves of non-investment in responsibility. I step up for my warm-up game, expecting to lose & I do. Sunken 8 in a second or two, so I'm humbled, wishing fate might do him in, for once. I want to wipe him free from this world, leave him burned on his own flames, a husk of somet...

My generation.... stared truth right in the eye and lied. We, who know the fairness of our adversaries; toothless, handed more sweet candied history of falseness, so sweet it can't be suckled. No more bowls of cherries, sitting careless as the fleeting air caught in someone's Revloned hair. Cynicism on a stick. Our land, all bought with blood of "heroes," taught us: crime pays in america. Catch as catch can, we fought the lot and still got the shaft, regardless of the crafts we've learned. Bu...

I'm remembering you, Rene, the way you danced that day I rudely cut in on hippie boy; your brown hair flaring like bright anger, and something about your teeth showed affection for coffee shops; you, making those sorority chicks look tame with your stripping sway of flung hip and thrown shoulder, checking sex hard, defining cool, and you acted coy with that whole eye thing, looking through your hair like a cage, and I wanted to let you out, let you out of the scar you got from the sharp end o...

let me sing to you like water sneaking trickster fingers down land. This river you visited echoes my anger, sinking inward with every trickle into the heart of our world, wandering down long trails of tears, under the reservations, beneath drunken cities of night, always hidden, like sad faces behind ceremonial masks, finally rising several miles along this warpath, like my temper, my cheek bones, my arrow shot at god, seeping past a people playing disappearing games with death. & we shall re...

Maybe it was the carpet of roaches, or the schoolmates who laughed at my K-Mart special clothes, or my American Government teacher Freshman year, when he told me in front of the whole class that I would never amount to anything. Or maybe it was when my first love got married ... to someone else, even though we weren't through yet. Or maybe it was the lack of health insurance and the mysterious aches and pains, the dead faces of those people I loved, the way we couldn't afford Body Glove or Iz...