Ow that goddamn burn hurts.
Goddamn Grecian burn.
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2006
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March
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- Something from My Travel Journal
- Wildfire
- Competence
- The Hilton Hightower Page #1
- Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf's Breath?
- Precocious Ferocious
- Ballish
- three's company
- The Clap
- Fodder
- No title
- The Worst Natural Disaster
- Self-Publishing
- Ruins
- SNAP
- Hilton Hightower's Tips on "Not" Being an Annoying...
- Hilton Hightower Says . . .
- You Activists
- Teaching Writing
- Perfection
- Treachery
- Journalists
- Enlightenment
- Accolades
- Toilet Bowl
- I Hate Poetry
- eye wz
- Who Likes Hot Dogs?
- and, and, and
- Life in an underground bunker . . .
- Ode on a Grecian Burn
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March
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About Me
- Hilton Hightower
- Hilton Hightower is half-man, half-robot, half-carnivorous ninja pirate, but all poet. With over 30,000 poems written in his lifetime covering topics ranging from circus food to the labor divisions of modern America, Hilton manages to capture the anger of a man torn between his love of laughing gas and his hatred of hot dogs. This page features exclusive poetry written by the man Poem Critic magazine once called "Ginsberg dug up and reanimated with juices from the Devil's refrigerator."
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