the writing of john scott ridgway and his mental demons -- gilford tuttle, white male christian, and johnny pain -- punk serial killer with a penchant for vegetible molestation.
Gilford Tuttle's Articles In Poetry
March 1, 2007 by Gilford Tuttle
we lose right now TODAY WAR OVER WITHOUT COPS AND SOLDIERS I AM A COP!!! I am A SOLDIER!!!! FOR GOD'S SAKE WHY AREN'T YOU?
February 25, 2007 by Gilford Tuttle
can't be another hitler in those dark shades that bleed away all the color reduce these visions to black and white I post-modern man all wary staying away from drawing lines in the sand or declaring anything permanent for any length of time refusing to be a judge in a court of impossible standards I oblivous stoic going thru my mundane day MONKED AWAY from the masses telling no one what I do learning to listen fishing for words unknowingly illumating pages o...
January 7, 2007 by Gilford Tuttle
a man blows himself up to kill a ford plant destroy a fur store disable an suv in the bitter end when the air itself begins to choke us an end written before their time in an untouchable past of impossible blues and greens animals that roamed free only nihilism will make sense meaningless acts of destruction the only way left to sate the rage religions will spawn out of a great need to declare it all one big going away party They will tear up the pictures of our ...
November 27, 2006 by Gilford Tuttle
Mary Ann has eight decades of memories she falls back into them and drifts off tells stories of the thirties on Chicago's German Southside says over and over, 'it's all gone now.' she's seen a lot of worlds emerge & dissolve away the people kept coming and coming crowded the cities then the fields then the woods were replaced with surburbia she's bewildered by computers too slow for revolving doors afraid of steps she talks of heaven I hold my atheist toungue tell...
November 8, 2006 by Gilford Tuttle
slow trickle of tears down the side of a beer no pain in their clear slide once in awhile the gods get to dancing love fills you with everything you longed for in the lonely nights the trite and treacly becomes fine and dandy sometimes when the mood is just right...