He taught bleakness to crawl. Then he thought his accordion could dismantle everyone’s cherished ideas regarding the cosmos, self and identity. In this he was mistaken, though such an act was amplified through the sour, green moons of Paris. Tactically, he was the proverbial pictogram stuck between spinning reptile discs. His raw absinthe dreamed nightly of kick0starting the apocalypse, and indeed his heels began to bear all the earmarks of the much-prophesied arrival of navy-blue archangels programmed by Jehovah to write erotic sonnets. A fluorescent puddle was no good to him. Steaming plates of alterity would have been of even less use. What he needed was for glass pavilions to suck all comprehension from his innards, and this would have happened had the car doors not locked themselves spontaneously But such was his luck. He could peel post-Einsteinian mathematics from the gated now just by snoring. he could steer a tank with his diction even if you taped him to a shaman’s glistening throat muscles. And yet, even the slightest hint of a deformed halo would send him into a blazing legislative fury. He called everything names, and when he ran out of names, he called them numbers, and when he ran out of numbers, he called the police. They gave him a lucrative, fact-finding tour of hunger and adrenaline in exchange for everything he knew of zoology, and off he went again, railing spools of low budget algebra to eyes hammered in like nails, some of which he had to hallucinate in order to meet his quota. In the end, he expired with a pair of ghostly Air France Concordes etched on his tongue, the pockets of his coat flying through the lonely corridors of time. Sadly, this harsh talcum of the abyss served as the only designation on his tombstone.
hike up your skirt and those egg white smooth shapes of your face we criss-cross was it so very strange as kissed as you are that weary spirit split a pagoda soup of darkness as crazy eyes cross back and forth like fencers so many hours that hurt the most she never spoke of us time i'd kissed that strange line and annihilation lit up our tv screen
I think I slowly keel over to the drugstore where you weigh yourself after ingesting several aspirin tablets. Please refrain from filling me in on the details. I write the way a rancher thinks at dusk. If you unwittingly allow adverbs into your hesitation, I drop when the shoots spells out an intent. The lines are long here in the west. That's capital W. "As you were," comprises syllables I've come to like. I do that anyway: swamp cool my own inventions. Would you like to see them? I could offer you a demo but these don't come cheap.
for you to love me? I ask myself why do I ask myself? reflexes remain reliable as sandpaper until it wears away.
I wear a badge that says: I need to be taken seriously. I look into your face that is not swollen at all. I think sometimes that it is not like my face. I believe there needs to be another word for face, encompassing all faces.
I am invisible to you unless you look into my eyes and see yourself.
wish that i knew sometimes what's really on yr mind the geography of yr thoughts a map of mud and orgasms of teeth so sharp and to be held can you feel my scrambled organs in yr sound sleep oh truth stumbles through the warehouse of illusions indebtedness because hardly able no one can read this it's secret i can't even describe some primitive merrily down the sea merrily merrily merrily down the fault merrily merrily row row row yr boat let's roll a matchstricken midnight magical again surfaces here and there peeping tom poor the nudity i've never licked
he is like a loitering cigarette butt waiting to be picked up and smoked by a wandering broken crackhead ashamed and beaten by a crossfire of machine guns just waiting to expode in pieces do you understand the point of view of a schizophrenic ladyhawk in the night's eye a stuttering midget wow how amazing in an obscure way dividing reality from a fantasy island revealing so much nonsense a woman with child facing death upon delivery holds the truth catholic priests gather together uniting a sacred gathering an orgy of sorts bloodshot eyes a little boy is forced to confess his sins a sin full of confessions demons lurk around the fountain of youth shifting turning a battered woman cries in her stomach lovestruck by hateful restrictions brainbashing draining into puddles looking down she sees his face disgraced by solitude shooting comfort so down into veins deranged he seems confused sentenced to intolerance doomed toward ignorance set in motion so much commotion mother singular baffled by circumstance destroys her essence with guilt tired beyond belief suffering so much grief she's depleted overheated sour grapes dripping succulent fucking it's all so disgusting
i don't understand this moment something busts in everything crumbles what means the space between eye and eyes something succumbs a man stands on the corner he's holding a teacup sober pinky finger raised delicately and unsoil'd vinegar eyelashes she dances with what she does not understand eyes a spectre floats over me his wings spell 'w e a r' i've grown weary of irony saxophones play insert drum solo here interstellar caterpillar the little voice that says 'we're here' a polite conversation sunny july day everyone's giggling whimsical why do i juggle why must i write something tangible L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E is boring 'nuff said a ballerina stood on the tip of my nose berlin wall billboards eyeball cafe wail eucharistic wafer temple of the shutters over us shut up i don't understand SHOUT
her serpent tongue strangles closed mouth open legs crossed his boots half-tied stomping through sludge demand she complies screaming cries demons speak thru his eyes devouring her guts disgust clorox brain lost children digging their graves conquer this maze left in a daze!
a strong wind explodes from my temples tense as manic thought along the ivory railings of such a sultry july
the skyline that you'd anticipated all summer long is to be found in this dialogue lined up between us from initial counterfeit to exposed as real as a hundred bucks gone hand to hand read your palm and your comments all over my lips
just like the space cadet he's alarmed by outerspace voodoo and too in my jeans i go following into your eyes some soldier trooping totally aware of sheer magenta jungle is also me
our faces hyper you bite me horeshoes horseshoes ouch i cry so long it's as lovely as ice cream feeling you feeling me figure this out perhaps she and i will be ultimately you know in six years ahead if she and i'm for real
4 of us in the room we wait 'til 3 none of us certain whether anything is positive were you tested do your dreams hurt you she wanted me to imagine her 17 and slow to love never done a soul harm i told her this is the blues that we correspond in always strangers pacing the pea green rug of the world
though the clouds are detractors whom toss to shake their head dear baby truth is i'm interested in you more than corporeally just call this remastered edition part 1 and hold my breath with you 'til sequels cross paths like lions with millions of lashes glinting glinting and oh yes though we're squinting in our eyes where we waltz and the self just snap crackles to the wicked beat smoking voluptuous this thrilling high tower of feeling worth is thirsted thirstier and still thirsting as if it were the first
sydney sings a summer song her hannah dreams a mansion with huge eyes overflowing numbers her hayley goofs her red hair and don't forget tonight that 'bastian throws a party and we two here sit listening our poppy faces full of futures lips a pouty heat lazy on purple furniture eyeing each other beautiful migraines graceful pillows a sound of wind hushed so darling
suppose that you are alone and the edge that you sought is to be found mundane as niagra falls will you still love me tomorrow as you do today surely in the talking to you i've a wild idea to walk with i'd like to tell so urgently let's chimerically flashlight the candelabra flesh of before and after my hair's thinning maybe revelatory we brought the wayward boy home tripping into the night as high as a byrd is eight miles
speed freaky in my genes next door chunks of roof fall like shake evening out our porch door mouths proof that all of this is worth it far from routine the best friend i've ever had besides cork and bottle don't discount each worth you hold in your hands like song i'm a cry baby cry baby usa there's nothing to see in doubt i've already been to missour-ah miserable i'm never going back lonely on the stoop come to me child come to me
So called brevity or else it says look at me. What else is transparent if not the sudden illuminated glass through which you peer like a scientist or lad before a fun house mirror. I am the shape of so clear today, you become it, a mode you confirm: pose& supposition. Six mirrors are one language
5:30 is expanding and contracting. Satellite nullities, supple browns circling the haze of that star. I see codes everywhere. Red sleeves more than solitary, encased in breath too warm to be rain at all. The air's tiny death confronted by its own symmetry. Blank stares at a violent sub-text, equipoise splattered all over the mechanical glow. A brilliant cosmos exposes its spear of pleasure tonight, and my nebula has begun to tighten once again.
i cry for having never fully understood you raised eyebrows are raised questions the vegetable catholic church everything that keeps me awake at night in pants too big for my body playing billiards in the cosmos your breasts are like little yelps here on the birdbath she is your sabbath i lend vocals for everything that inside of her
when you watch us in the room is your radio playing or is there competent silence beating off such is the places everyone's pressed for time bushes flowers the control room where first he took her he breathed her watched her upside down surrounded her with kisses like wreathes unborn yet and because this precisely is the case of which to you i was speaking the soap of wilderness in which i lay awkward ready to die springs up in my body like a peak just so thank you
stumbling down my annoying life like stares breathing chimneys this murmur in the address room of my head looking sideways is this the moment you've all been waiting for in the back of your throat like ice concerns us immensely
i am zorro foxy radio woman was all like hump between moons neither of us could do that neon laugh as well i'll trade you your nether for some of my ether let's play pretend coalmines voluptuous as breath is there any better way to say i love you when bitten by some wacked-out thang those jumprope drugs do something crazy to me additionally she'd a film running in her eyes called play play play
chicago wind hair spontaneously making noise out there it's out there plucked me from crazy wilderness the sticks sniffling stoogey o wild flower inebriated as a loon what is it that spiritual graffitti that follows you big lettered "poet" through halls asteroid upon halls asteroid hellishly what in what gentle way will i fuck her tonight in her prime my twilit dancer this place these prancing people amongst them demonically cupie my pulpit is shabby like dolls shaved balls i'm ultimate lush reverend drunk the killer the pubic hair caught in your coffee so irish feel my name kiss me swim around you in august heat and the one that asked of me where's your girlfriend at what's her answer where's her tropic where are you this alliance these vague conversations about studliness and self-reliance kerouac i wish i were free too my lowell my crop my lover so pre- occupied me i'm so so pre-cummy and there's this everything hooking up and you should be too harbinger warped by your binge wrapped around spooked in your haunted closet
trapeze crawls into the cavity of used breath trapeze recants the rowboat dimmer trapeze amounts to sitting still accessible trapeze reverts to worthiness trapeze courts convention and dismisses duty trapeze releases probate to the clutch of madrigals trapeze replaces in-flight stippling trapeze endures the say-so of a fallen priest trapeze shows industry by noun entangled verbing trapeze ekes out sudden death anticipated posing trapeze sits in the woodwind section waiting for a drum trapeze has shucked endorphins calling them redundant trapeze crawls in eventually to every hiding place recorded trapeze mimics rock skipping pen spinning as enlarged sense of derangement
Okay, it looks like the issue of the mighty StarFish Journal I helped put together is pretty much live and ready to go!
It features the work of some established voices like Andrew Lundwall and Carol Novack, some exciting work by up and comers like John Moore Williams and Luka HeronBone, and perhaps more importantly, there are a number of complete unknowns that we are excited to be bringing to you for the first time.
baby will you be my new mexico is this chicago i feel crumbling beneath my feet like saltines is this the parisian triphop you told me about are my legs too big for my body is berlin an island where people wait
As she held scissors, stabbed my chairs, Left a hole for no good reason cause I Couldn’t say no, that she is so darling, this She knows as I blow smoke, and her face was, And is, unreachable, a kind of moon, a fright, A graveyard orphan’s tired lament for a kind Of nakedness she won’t allow, not to me, Though we tried, my hands on her stomach, Teeth bared, it was that kind of holocaust, Afternoon sunlight slanting onto the porch, her Mug some semblance of calm, I jumped a yard, Thinking I’d won her at last And so the table unfolds before us Ashtray eye-beams and saucer-eyed sentences, Coats put on for the chill November wind That reaches around, a kind of strong-armed Curse, an anti-benediction, as if some ruddy Pope put a backwards rhyme on our spoons so That nothing could ever be born from this tryst, But a moon-child cast up into the stratosphere, Without reason for leaving the ground