JF Mingione: writings

She dances to spring twirling her garter belt around A thing of the past, since her stockings wore out They say things were simpler, then when hats were the thing and bustles were erotic and sex was a scent for any man starched up to his collars Yes, things were simpler, then when all you had to do... Sign in to see full entry.

Well, it was bound to happen, when you live with yourself. After all, you can only overlook differences for so long… and whamo! It’s rub-a-dub time. I think it all started over how to roll the tube of tooth paste and which way to place the toilet paper (because I couldn’t agree with myself because... Sign in to see full entry.

Ink stains the page before reason can be blotted The act is not always fatal if we can keep our secrets entirely public Sign in to see full entry.

It seemed healthy at the time but when I got home they were 3 feet long not that they grew, i just didn't notice they were half my height well, it turned out to be a little/big negotiation because after I gave them a bath in sea-salt water (hey, any veggie would like that!) shook the water of very... Sign in to see full entry.

1. In the Samba of my life I close the door to my room Death and Change are never the same So I wait here for the knock In the Samba of my room I close my eyes lying on my Samba bed Why do miracles need a sky? Death and Change are never on time They’re never here until they knock So I wait and... Sign in to see full entry.

SO WE LOOSE SOME BRAIN CELLS GOING THRU THE WHITE HEAT OF LINGERING EMBERS A TRANSFORMATION QUITE UNIQUE CALLING IT AN “ORIGINAL” BECAUSE IT CANNOT BE DUPLICATED WHICH MAKES TIME A PIECE OF WORK BECAUSE IT IS THE FIRST, THE VERY FIRST TO SAY OUR MEMORIES HAVE BEGININGS THAT WE CAN’T REMEMBER OR WHY... Sign in to see full entry.

Here I am, again taxing the haystacks of my youth must all tomorrows begin today? Might all my possibilities still stand in these ashes of hope Reclaiming, once again the very definition of Tomorrow Sign in to see full entry.

Clatter these pots and pans preparing the artist’s escape route Clang their lids till the pottery shatters its secrets within the volcano Leap into the belly of the lamb while drinking the blood of the Revolution Resurrect this vision from dust that we are here to be reborn Sign in to see full entry.

She’s called Winnie How-How because her name is Winnie, and she knows how to do most anything. I met her thru I.V.--that’s my inner voice who I keep locked up in my cellar because he likes to drink and sing…not that there is anything oppressive about our relationship because I keep telling him if he... Sign in to see full entry.

This talking commercial won’t stop Now it’s walking beside me Everywhere I go I’m the pigeon-holed beggar Asking for my life back After all, it’s mine Hey, I am what I am because Life attacked me, once But now I got to make myself feel guilty Because I can’t pass up A good good-bye I’m the... Sign in to see full entry.