Beyond just P.F.S. Post, an anthology of material covering all aspects of what the Philly Free School has been, is, and will be, from 2004 to the present day, on out.
Through the party in a dark, dreary mansion,
I chased her up the slick wooden stairs—
goblins repulsing our pouting & passion,
ghouls in a hurry to stifle our dares—
blue, spare bedroom in a spasm of anguish,
her clothes came off like rain-fattened mud—
both in a hurry, before we both languish,
Cheltenham sucking the life from our blood—
how can I say this is where I've settled,
trying to capture the pain of my youth—
fever & fear & despair in a kettle,
diamonds on parasites, burying truth—
poetry lives past the sky's limpid ceiling,
frequencies caught for a moment, & hung—
Cheltenham lived in a dungeon of feeling,
which I've made eternal, as Stacy's quick tongue—
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