| ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM |
| ***BIO*** Bradley Mason Hamlin was born in Los Angeles and raised on both the east and west sides of the territory. He served in the United States Navy from 1981 to 1984. He is a graduate of the University Of California where he studied poetry under the Pulitzer prize winning poet Gary Snyder. He lives in Sacramento, California with his wife Nicky and their many amazing children and works for Mystery Island Publications. www.mysteryisland.net His work has most recently appeared in Poems-For-All, remark., Thunder Sandwich, Impetus, The Juice, The Ragged Edge, MIPO, The James River Poetry Review, SpaceBreather and as a featured poet on the Poetry Super Highway. His latest book of poetry was published by Bottle Of Smoke Press. |
| © 2004 zygoteinmycoffee Ink. |
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| David leapt up and grabbed the guitar. He plugged into a small amp nearby, pulled a pic off of the shelf and started strumming, tuning, then rolling off lyrics to his new song. “I murder you, baby I murder you all the time Dead drunk & drinkin’ cheap wine I murder you, baby Cuz you’re so crazy fine …” Mandara laughed and it was a good laugh. David was a fuck up, but he was her fuck up. “Is that all you’ve got?” “Uh …” He thought about the words and then stopped thinking about the words. “Murder, murder, baby Makes me feel like a king When you shake your hips When you shout and sing … I murder, you baby And that’s all right with you But I’m gonna be okay And I’ll sell this song today Or I’ll rob a store So my baby, yeah She don’t have to be a whore.” Mandara considered the knife. She picked it up off of the floor. She thought David needed an edge, so she threw it at him. She had meant to hit the bookshelf, hopefully one of the William S. Burroughs books. But she stared at the knife sticking out of David’s chest. He dropped the guitar and fell back against the bookcase. His legs gave out and he slumped down to the carpet as the record albums from the middle shelf crashed down around him. Buddy Holly, Frank Sinatra, Johnny Cash—all dead and now he would join them, another dead artist with a song against his lips. |