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3.31.2008
lawn boy segment
— money and power diced rabid black dog plus contaminant feral infected cat equal all lawn boy lacks another vague afternoon without social restraints his inner brute rips apart these animals anyway add salt and festering boils his guests arrive famished —
3.30.2008
semi-cynical friend
particulars i didn't want him in on she did for whatever this room's far too too short rocks a whydinging to staring at the ceiling i feel uncomfortable you didn't have to endthat stray explanation was never delivered her family was against couldn't digest it i wanted to interrupt keep them necessary keep them plucked bankrupt guitar string i wonder what she does alone there at nighteveryone thinks that daydreamy stillness is most radical my trajectory included under the hardcore night and its breakable bulbs it drags from some source and drags and it keeps dragging my semi-cynical friend
Oil #9
Psychic lounge as hands of the knowing it's uncanny, the fully-digested city that is not going to break. A conference is never prosperity, it mesmerizes between the haves and the new black, an inherent potential for geometry in that night sent to membrane a stroke of pure love. Eight as a formula, what you've got between your doors this new vista, my powers of Gertrude Stein.
3.29.2008
allure
transparent mattresses gray clouds stars of sad reunions sad centers of nectar frigid with ground below the spinal cord of is rotating hum is splintering wooden halo beneath the weight taken in installments anything is moon wear it whether pills or metallic sacrament saharan depressions the days' dials pursue robes flowing behind profound obsessions stringed instruments purpose is problem she'd kicked her habit i'll admit that i was hesitant infested persistent a leg up her skirt is motivation lurking around the telephone booth with its sincerest face on my legs would not and still last night the rosary between her knees her face from east to west like an echo between poles it was emotionally close captioned it read like telepathy as it struggled from shoulder to shoulder
Home Next To The ExitI was forever when home shimmered beneath the morning star Now home rides next to the exit of every last instant
lost a post
and it was called (few chosen) "don't dainty me" and it was good (brotha!) and it was good now I lay me now I weigh me now I flay me dry my tears I wish there were a cinderblock of wholesome to relieve my sake you make me shatter where I merely shadowed once and limitedly drying follicles were also fine I'm with you are you viable against the pasture is this a metro lop flop clop clop shaving tell me norms are whittled down worth zippo hip frames (have a child) you ought to be in pixils baby pine wood pick a box (any box)
3.27.2008
this is not a photograph
issues means that i've got fish shoes what does that ignite under march sun motherfucker sounds like mellow in burmese some ketchup and some coffee at the 7-11 is that wrong sleep deprivation the musculature of being awake the bulbous nose of waiting the longing in yr heart the speedy pills like yellow submarines you must understand that i want to need you i pause the braille of long returns are the bouncers of yr heart delicately obsessed lips decompressing it's like a violence that i want you to inflict upon me read it in the sunday papers my ascetic's five o'clock shadow just like this is not a photograph
3.25.2008
tender buttons
sporangia spoon-feed as i sit here on the sofa waiting on clara's call she's at the club in my feet moodily ahhing ahhs or crucifixion diction dig wore one of those black robes that you drove her dress all the way to the mall the performance is spontaneous she's a stanza driver mascara'd in her mystical doom buggy the dining room wore through you like being harpooned more than fooled by an absence an aardwolf invisible-esque in silent film each spoonful of our minds like chaplin or in each armpit a little martyr an ascetic black coffee scurry out front like gertrude stine spooling moonful for a second true identity true staring at me like love when it feels purgatorial with shocking pink saucer eyes is ideal inflection smoking a cigarette with predestination along with genuflection that you knew how do or like all along where it burned a hole instead of you and turned away or on
teach him to
bleed comfortably in private and not have it show blend without the edges overtake the rinsed moon shadow how hurt feelings and their sharpness and their coattails and their feeble cells allow speech not to be a silencer and have a role have a place to play that is not functioning that deservedness will always with at least one holding to be holding
joan
the fool on the water or hidden purity connected somehow triple-hipped divinity recurring still we'll hook up in the ether at least has it occured to you peripherally multi-faceted wonderbodies her eyeballs are deities out there somewhere her focus fingernails pretty kissings and otherworldly her facings and her goings scantily clad waiting on cab the trees so high that night on stilted legs windless with unknown pleasures we've become three that none other can name
slowdive
slept against it was merely imagined two faces merge sweetly in the happening hard twists of night radically feeling desperate attraction i've opened a book on my lap sacrilegious excretionsthe lamp's glow is wound it bleeds the room haunted by like secrets is wanting is knowing is like thoughts dispensing candy is resurrection radio telepathic transformation most important is to know who you are
3.24.2008
you are my comprende
also tacit is the greenery in thought this respiration of indulgence the appointed hour you finish my surface to reveal its glow merely another depth seen from projection when the stream is quiet we can see ourselves and when we see we might be listening a form of justice is in hibernation yet the gratitude alleviates the pain in seedlings many hospices behind the attitude direct us to the grape and sadness peeled away more fluencies treble their lit carapace when an endowment learns to fry each of us a noun in waiting hastens the descent of curtain with its plush liner and weight the semi-submersible sub she talked of was her shining psyche I am guessing and still sure (at once)
big black car
numbed to beautiful in indigo room glazed daisies or three fleshes congregate like the washington monument bright flashes specimens shocking eyes move like headlights to the ceiling saturated with jack on fire taught bodies in circles hollar fire hydrants ours are stars the flower of our mouth an asterisk inverted kiss pretty the shapes the most taboo the shapes the smoke the shapes outsided
3.23.2008
3.22.2008
the butterfly collector
totally lethargic silhouettes of communication celebrated beehive blaring going gone open like bed be fucking alarmed draw bridges of my otherwise self drugs fall from american clouds over belgium like candy it's a parade get trying you scrawny lines and drink fine minutes to reevaluate party i felt a dark night in her pocket she's saving kaleidoscope for a rainy day to deluxe down the quiet street i'm cosmic champagne enters the etcetera have good make-out repeatedly appreciate my voice really lonely shape conversation ought we talk with sometimes the afterglow of heroin she's death-defying the jitteriness mirror is a movie substitute the blood for ketchup buckle your hearing like a truant does with true daring life is a butterfly my hands just grown two words and tiny poem lips too that cursive factory muffins and moves stars the first wasn't stuck on my weekends on top slide up very happy she and a wilderness for the stairs like waves soulmate throws a sensitive jungle at our keepers
Am Always Coming Out To The City something in my genes compels me to count the letters of the words in my eye shackles me to tired information bleeds the adjective even before my mind speaks something borrowed garbled hip hop language am always coming out to the city before the beat knocks on the door.
3.21.2008
shelter skelt
admit via the bedroom wind (you clue in the ivy prone to brickline (nominal restraint for a person visiting (figure of orderly display to sun herself to think (water figures speech across these waves (lint like soft fuel of space in time (tools for which form conform to rule-based flint (time-based effects upon the double-paned (ave maria for example protective course in tow (tinkering in light believe in what you do not make (personae tingling arrive at some specific figure (site-specific to declare and call it (climbing equal to toil someone's creed including you (room for bridges
3.20.2008
spark
it's embedded in the distance between you and i rewind one day let feet loose behind gloss of eyes where we rose once more to dream pages fell like seduced clothes like blood-drawn merlot dripping from the tops of blackened trees blue eyes of god dear lonesome-fingered dribbling ball through the abandoned building's devastated hallway hold back my hand mathilda i have no idea in the slit space that lucifer left
3.16.2008
catholicism
guilty pleasures twist their faces it's night alone technicolor elves mirror eyes in corners angles maneuvers shapes a girl who hacked your myspace elude the tetrahedron distance self from the swerving clouds the promise of paradise now reflected in the solar billboards your etiquette and your large portions your exploding humility you're keeping your options open contrary to promises you're working in the mine just like the last husband who'd lost his self swallowed up by the corridor's dark percolator it was another language called outerspace it was the twilight zone in wisconsin and we model before the moon our melancholy rags like we're illegal taken up residence in a hostel her face her lips the words were falling to the world incriminating watch the chimneys pipe up out of our way static static i never turned the radio on it must've been from on high
south
the milk is drunken by death as well builds strong bones that last an eternity shrunken under this i refuse to believe what you'd never let me bejewelled lobster incredible the time her with her big mouth and now her with her incredible soul stun tonight i'm keyholing because i want to dream i want to eat ice cream fuck my face with vanilla tomorrow i'll get lost in mathilda's clocks arms half-naked to forget this mess this single file of bull
my goodness
she looked so real i couldn't bring myself to hold her muster up the sky is funeral blue as anxious earth unrolls before and behind you a glued face to a window is where godess refuses intervention a glued face to a window is a face instead of you unsteady on glossy feet the city's recycled son packing an unheard-of heat in his tight jeans levi's two neon virgin marys flashing in his scrambled eyes or remember when norfordville we'd went to do when you'd thrown away important that day way back in her ageless beauty the clouds pissed all of this passionate intensity
3.15.2008
anxiety
trace your jonesin' to the house we'd camped in all winter virgin mothers crowding the quarters extreme prediction to i don't knowthe boredom you've felt is all a dream i should know i've visited twice and plan to go back next year for a vacation with the whole fam convenience store sore eyes haunt my bespectacled life exquisite salivating an ivory whirlpool pardon me the film blurts of course it's styrofoam the leopard's eyes are made of and of course you can pet it it was you vs. the city your left hook spun the streets like a fiend's eyes aimed at cornered world settles in a candle for your mouth to shove through the inky tentacled nettles of dark we are made of what the stars shot back
I'm going to move the obstacles because they are not objects quite I'm going to change myself I'm going to infringe upon a violation of entitlement deserving I'm going to beetroot this space of water I'm going to anoint what was already holy to remind myself I'm going to foster a new season in the offing I'm going to elate I'm going to sound relativity in retrospect I'm going to be purposeful with prematurity I'm going to declare my own lifeline I'm going to employ my arithmetic functions I'm going to resist the various inventions I'm going to focus noticing
i swear
i am writing down numbers there's a look in your eyes that screams moscow, bitches!you've pinned god to the ottoman like a crushed mosquito elsewhere munching moon the kids play dominoes quietly pretend to give a fuck i dare you i swear once i published in this literary quarterlyand start to hold my breath and think virgin again dear brethren and sistren infatuated with irony i swear the depth of this bread goes on forever while a good portion of the world is starving the balls of this poem are sagging south i've stopped making plans expecting her call i can't sit through movies at all anymore
borgesmontalecelanbaghavadgita
Ma, qui, la gioia ci sarà avvelenata sempreBut, here, happiness will be always impossible for us(Sergio Quinzio): secateurs, don’t cut off that face, it’s every man – the past is distorted, is getting old, belongs to another me, nothing’s rose, nobody’s rose… . memory: to save what never dies aletheia: recoubra na hanyate --------------------------- borgesmontalecelanbaghavadgita ....................................................... Quinzio's words from one of his letters to me (S.Q., L'esilio e la gloria,1998)
3.14.2008
mice
it is generous this coming and going slow-mo adoration is our big big hands folded to mold teensy tiny wishes like wings where we'd waited for her angelic to crawl out when the heart hurts when no one else is there when it's over when you know it when can i when can't i when can you when can't you when there's nothing else lingering upon lips to speak congregate 'round profound like mice
3.11.2008
The Strangest LifeThe man pulls 5am awake. I have beaten him by six breaths. The others are oblivious of our haunting. I stretch and ignite. Fire for rebirth. Subterranean winter chill. They try to feed me earth balls to ward of winter chills in the underground. Subterranean epiphany. By seven am out in the world chasing my future before it falls apart. Math can’t save me but I have to try. The J train crawls toward the symbiotic throng. Another strap hanger turbulence. You don’t get to choose your space before you fall. You learn to fit inside time and indifferent perspective.
3.09.2008
sensitivity
so far so good this is what we've gathered: her metallic hearts' soviet winter rains triangles on my escapade the delusional fog of sleeping and waking half-baked hardcore sore this tune-dumb sun of ours is strumming upon the nagging nutsack of preposterous clouds and should you see me walking down the street turn the other way choose wiselyway past the united states of america laundromatjust shove one quarter in one of them machines baby f or pleasant to be for to be at liberty unmolestedyes yes this poem's called sensitivity it's about capitalismand the way she looked that night that the gigantic birdsof prey made swoopy and swoosh to feed her confusion that sent illusion skipping stupid that she couldn't stand
young, loud, and snotty
bring it on lonely elvis lights in vegas - i want you to know that every poem i've written is beautiful like this one - shoulders twist in flesh - olympic-sized eyes perpetually waiting on shithead so you want to be a machine eh? - demand total makeover - a hum of very small very miniature feet that passed because love - flame there's nothing waiting no nothing to do - it's as simple as split the scene in half you'll know where you stand
shushup the wind!
shushup the wind! in its howls how forgotten she’s an the wind speaks in howls footfalls in a forgotten she’s an impressionable young cliff face crunch footfalls in howls' girl of my aloneness the wind shushup! my aloofness.
3.08.2008
this is not the art
This is the art this is not the art This is the art this is not the art Could you// take my// prints for// sale Do you// have frames?// How much// do you// take?// I like your abstracts// email me//in 2 months Okay// Great// I am not the Internet I am the Internet I am Japan I am Russia May I whoreship at the high church of capitalism? This is the art not the writing of it not the painting nor the dancing of it A fine art by happiness this art of doing I am driving to Plymouth Plymouth doesn't own me, It owns capitalism As you read this poem you become aware you are reading it and this is the art not the poem when you made your coffee this morning you made the art not thinking I went to the theatre on Tuesday February 2nd walking there was the art not the drama I am an alien in my own land Our culture is any culture Our art is our first steps to doing, undoing knowing by this art happiness by this we seek each other
3.06.2008
balls in the background
did you see a painting of my cock? it just sits there, painted. i thought, holy fuck that's my cock and it's just sitting there, painted. ~lds08
3.05.2008
wade in the want
let's talk lies and elusive truths let's talk about drunken spoofs talk the unwanted women i've tried that i'm kicking sand is proof hers are snow falls like globes hers are why i'm where i'm i've given up conceal since the walls have claustrophob'd isn't what we'd like to know let's talk rolling friday night's worth up late burying digital alarm clock under heaps of unaffordable clothes the x's in our eyes are startled gospel surprised by sudden aware of in need of
hey(knock)you
spackle all you fret I hear the wallboard ping that's justice capstoned off the charts dither me timbre northy boy you scorch by daylight me I pry no info out of yucca trims because because adagio turns me style me head me quasi sharpshoot finger pointing etudes diffuse
3.03.2008
sa pling
patience (hypothetical) feeds sliplet of an early tree (still hypothetical) wind's actual tall evidence allows no mercy to its leaves and rapture there are guesses anything but accidental in the form of shadows undergirding these mammalian hands that finger yellow pages white and green the perfect complement to virtue estranged from source of early passion patience is a sign of nothing but precision that escapes the heart the heart redeems the latent mindset the one that left us unattended has resumed forefathered eminence where it is impossible to be found (out) every evidence of window mourns the backdrop of infected sky nobody wants to own nobody wants to waltz into nobody wants to jump toward from penthouse or conventional remove "You are my sunshine, my only . . ." (capstone course) so if I start to seem like context-free amazement put me in a circumstance where I can run around the block wearing a wooden sandwich board that says I'm often flexible as silk the body leads away from correspondence "let us pray."
3.02.2008
global positioning system
her smile's perpetual midnight digs up the carcasses of yesteryear rolling on e headlights bright bow-tie the dark's tuxedo there are ambulances prepared in her eyelids' hangars langurous some even clad in colorful costumes supposedly glamorous ache to become if you want i'm through with the rest of the fucking drama i've got enough of my own it's a burden the sound of each day that initial purge a nauseous universe punctuated by papercuts
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3.01.2008
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