February 2012
3 posts
2 tags
every february a warm stupor
lovers like us cough on our knees we mumble because we are tired because Sabines is right because we do not save love there are caves in our love: we commute from them alone we dwell within its pauses and those we gargle in our mouths because this is granted and we take it because we do not...
1 tag
Shootout At Hotel Tampico
(my neck knows knuckles- do your fingers remember the grip like a wedding wring imprint and later with soaked regret coughed you a reprint of a sulking pulse? i’m sure you put me to paper.) i told you once that valentine’s day should take place in july (the melody that months sing, julius comes ruby, february in a sling) how midsummer’s nights mean salted map making in linen...
3 tags
recidivism at the asylum
the bespoke white jacket and shoes sans laces were the same only these “prison” walls are colder than last time i booked a room
especially tonight as the rain comes and the grouted grooves direct precipitation to act the part of tears in the production of my self-imposed sentence for an audience of ONE
someday soon i’ll be on fire and they’ll let me walk...
January 2012
5 posts
1 tag
twenties
growing is a verb to fear along with the sensation of what follows each year:
that which accompanies this type of (holi)day, how special it’s supposed to be, and the certainty that it isn’t
give the earth a smooch! I say give it ein kuss and slap yourself silly sing a prayer of thanks and share a drink with Millie
wars burn all the lord has made a couple hundred latitudes beneath but (for now)...
1 tag
BLUE EYES WHITE ALEJANDRAGON IV: TREE OF DIANA...
∞: A PAINTING OF VISCERAL DEFENDER LEXICA ALEJANDRA – DIOSDEM MODE
I: TRANSLATING AZURE STOCKINGS FROM THE LEGS OF REVELATION II: WING TALE OF THE BLUE DRESS III: MA FLEUR POUR FLORA ET LE COEUR DES CARTES IV: CLIMBING DIANA’S TREE
No excerpts, just a commemorative, badly drawn card and the last four links, the last four blue threads of this now actually elapsed adventure. The fact that...
1 tag
Untitled/These Hallowed Halls
glaring strobing lightning, (like paper ships in glass bottles) boisterous flailing madmen, you engaged elsewhere in an uproarious conversation; somehow i grew so taciturn. on back porches and inbetween evenings spent reading in the cold, i guess i knew. if i see your gold rimmed self smiling towards me in these rotting halls, i know then that i am awake and i bristle and foam and...
1 tag
BLUE EYES WHITE ALEJANDRAGON III
I: A PAINTING OF VISCERAL DEFENDER LEXICA ALEJANDRA – DIANA MODE
Andrew Kirby, A Painting Of Visceral Defender Lexical Alejandra - Diana Mode, 2011, mixed media foremostly of Alejandra Pizarnik’s Ojos Primitivos, La Palabra Del Deseo, and El Deseo De La Palabra, the Wind, the Mountains, Heaven, and Earth.
II: THE CASUALTIES OF PLAY (in full)
III: WORDS AND DESIRE (in full)
an excerpt...
1 tag
it never stops (a staircase)
some days like today when i am happy for no reason and it feels like an old california spring day with that sea salt air licking my heels as i climb hills like they’re my own collection and when those two men smiling and brown moving large boxes into a baby blue and bricked building maybe they know how your name drops in my mouth like changing gears on the autobahn and i let it out to tangle...
December 2011
9 posts
1 tag
Left Behind
late at night phantom drives home taking roads so well worn and known I pretend it’s the second coming that I’m the only one left
I let the pain of you finally leaving compress my body into small boxes and deafaning silences and close my eyes and let go of the wheel
every night carries its own epiphany, locked starshut winkwise and waiting. and if hell is a strip mall i...
3 tags
macbeth's winter, now with content
shakespeare that prick
at least he knew a thing or two truth feelings
me JACK SHIT
but i’m trying my best to get by without causing too much pain keep trying boy you’ll get it someday
someday i’ll come to that realization everything dies
all that matters is EXODUS CATHARSIS HAPPINESS ASCENSION
i can almost grasp it in my blood-stained palms i...
1 tag
BLUE EYES WHITE ALEJANDRAGON II
LEGEND & TRANSLATIONS
Meifeng Siffonis wears a qi-pao adapted from Alejandra Pizarnik’s FORMS, FAR BEYOND, and DAUGHTER OF THE WIND
II: RELIGION III – THE SEAMSTRESS AND THE WIND’S ETERNAL DUELIST SOUL
I had touched down at the Airport in Merida. There were people scattered about the few air strips, as if a bowl of dog food was tipped over – someone had to eat them or clean up the...
1 tag
america has lost itself
tracing your light, left foot against pebbles, and rust-soaked earth. its stomach rumbles, riddled with crusty, drained sores. a boy existing in a frozen, fixed realm, floundering between red wheelbarrows and oxen, on a road longer than a rattlesnake’s ego.
he shouts again, shaking his tiny fists straight to his sides, but only groans meet his ears. “too many lives have broken down...
1 tag
live at the orpheum
I lied to you.
I used to say, “I dream about kissing strangers,” so I could see a man about a dead metal pan. And here we are in Ybor, where they are something like Hux’s epsilons, and I tell you in the midst of my drunken state:
“I lied to you.”
And what a relief! it is to keep hungry for you and know that I dream about running the fullness of my mouth over yours, and know that I still want...
1 tag
caves
baby, it’s cold outside. i say, breathlessly, we should multiply.
arch your back so hard so strong beads racing to meet me down curves and turns and rugburns
i want to hum haughty melodies across the bumps of your bellody and tick tock tug the follicles that synapse-to-synapse the moans in your head i want to hum exasperated wants against the ass of your neck and i want to hum on your...
4 tags
let him drown
the man in the boat was taking on water at an extravagant rate when i found him
he hit the tip of an iceberg and not even emptying the ballasts could save him
i smiled nasty said let him drown and went on with my business (which was thriving like a coral reef prior to “global warming”) of sampling the menu laid out before me
dinnertime comes but once a day and my current...
1 tag
sonnet (silence/unstructure) for e.b.
c’mon pilgrim, here are the drowsy expanses of rusty roofs, you are still a mystery; still a quiet soul with sporadic pink hands reaching last year i was sleepless too for the same reasons it seems already & always almost wondering (strange how things happen) here in the same star-roofed cars, the same mazely ballrooms of sound freezing, wishing without a single petal to kiss;...
1 tag
overflowing table
pushing half-filled coffee mugs, oily, cascading prints, and books to the floor. tons of pungent books! laying on their sides. on their thin backs, sprawled open to a specific page, delicately placed like a sleeping beauty, with slender arms dangling off the edge.
a sigh escapes from pink, tense lips, leaving moments to collapse onto a wooden chair to watch satisfying destruction rest.
November 2011
11 posts
1 tag
eci
we’re not i am you aren’t we’re balanced.
1 tag
A Photograph of a Mountain
lying half-awake in the long bales of sunlight rolling in through the windows (these are the days when I can feel my heart far more than my hands) in grey dawn light beginning new chapters in both leaves and life, we exist in a vacuum. the love i have for you is 22 years old surrounded by cross beams and lintels windows that only open for cigarette smoke beating breathing choking on...
2 tags
natural selection
i am beyond GONE
lost into oblivion never to return
it is a freedom seldom experienced by mere mortals
only by the gods of this grand experiment we know as
life
transference between ALL THAT is GOOD or EVIL or EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN
such a fermentation takes place but once every time you laugh
so laugh MORE
the inclination is THERE
-suburbanmike
1 tag
BLUE EYES WHITE ALEJANDRAGON I
｢CIELO | SALVACIÓN | LAMENTO｣
I PART II: RISE OF THE NEEDLESS MUTE MUSE
I walk down the library stairs, parting from my partner, my relief reverse belies my belief that I have just not done as well on my Final Spanish Oral Examen as I should have. Wind chill. My brogues click on the ground. I avoid a person sitting at the bus stop and walk the good quarter mile or so to eat at the campus...
1 tag
ubuweb/sound
I am looking at you
through a dark screen through your glasses through this Borges lecture you wanted me to hear it’s 4 in the morning you suggest we go on a walk but I’m a pussy about the cold even with your socks on. “isn’t it raining?” (forever mentioning rain! it passes through me always, as down porch awnings on saturday mornings.) but not rain, just...
2 tags
dracula's bruxism
i grind my teeth at night because i don’t speak to you enough when i’m awake
it’s the only way i know how to make up for my daylight silence
look closely
my incisors have taken on the look of vampire fangs
i’m pretty sure it’s time i drink yr blood
i pray it tastes good like cheeseburgers or commitment
because the sun is quick-rising and my jaw is swollen-sore...
1 tag
nadia boulanger
the bandoneons are here to share a tale of the inborn conquest that binds us all and then kills us all that of impassioned men with the pink goggles (an old story, I’m sure, if you know me) and their women weaving through mazes built by the etudes out of the mouth of an accordion or, when they are absent or can no longer wheeze, the phonograph the quarter notes found in their very own kind of iron...
2 tags
for summer, longing
an empty peanut shell tumbled down the stairs from the upper deck
STRIKE HIS ASS OUT yelled the drunk his colors painted on his face his breath smelling of a single father
i tell you this guy was close to dust the closest i’ve ever seen something that didn’t convert oxygen from co2 or vice-versa
i was close to the sun far from hope or hip or a care in the world
all...
1 tag
saint john
waking up from a gorgeous earthquake, misty projections dance in your eyes. nothing else can come of this but dirt-smeared truth, hugs, lots of hugs and brilliant birth. floating between perfect bubbles and a room of bruised blue, nestled in crimson cloth, swans gaze ahead. underneath their span rested quiet, raw innocence buried in holy water.
WL
1 tag
American Attendance.
i was hanging all over from the night before when on the echoing trail of an exacerbated exhale i remembered faintly that she said something about class.
which got me thinking about whether or not i truly ‘had it’, class that is, i had ‘had it’ ‘up to here’ before and i ‘had it’ with marie last weekend but what was class? my shoe strings dangle...
1 tag
swimmers
what’s it like to be a fish in a bowl in a glass in the office fish swish to know that you will die where you live surrounded by water and glass reflecting each other maybe it seems like forever mirror on mirror in silver endlessness and the blurred peach wallpaper might not exist or the desk or the bookbags limped over beds and electric hum but what lies on the other side not even gods know...
October 2011
9 posts
1 tag
seven minutes & three whole seconds
a golden boy was begging for mere moments to halt the essence of linear progression and almanacs with cinematic tension soundly coiled in his hair. every moment covered in violent echoed-blues and bronze! walking with swagger under vast sapphire skies! “this is not to act like a coward last man on earth,” he gushed: “surrounded by his treasured literature with...
1 tag
found some graph paper
how can i begin to stake claim over the tiny pieces of sand you let every man carry away with him, from the hourglass of yr body, when i myself am a pebble peddler worse than you with a fading body that will soon cease to exist?
i just want you (untouched).
And me? a blazing fit of love and hypocrisy.
1 tag
pond scum
tadpoles grow legs, walk on water, spawn more tadpoles and eventually die.
i’ve never walked on water, but my friend once told me it’s all the rage in East Berlin.
someday soon i hope to spawn and eventually die; just not today.
first, i would like to grow legs.
-suburbanmike
1 tag
Mulligans
and its so hard to take, the s h a k e of your sunsweat hair (you and the sweater you wore) just loose enough to hide your slight frame & make me think we’re okay. so i bought us drinks with my birthday money & watchedyouwatch (you with the darkest (eyes furthest away (brightest sunlight (on grass i do not know if you hear my songs, i do not know your notes/nots/knots-...
1 tag
hoping for gimel, landing on shin
as the day finally ended its miserable life, i saw a star, possibly a satellite (i’m no astronomer), flicker and burn against the velvet backdrop sky, reminding me
there is no sunset, only a spinning dreidel flying around a giant fart;
there is no patience, just silence - the saddest form of communication.
and in that lonely, lonely moment of reticence, i realized ...
1 tag
guajira guantanamera
whoever you end up marrying dating loving whatever
make sure they sway with you
that when they dance with you they mean it whether they do it to make you laugh or to seal the romance
I guess that’s my Christmas wish this year
the old adage rings true at least in these weary bones
never say no when she asks you to dance
1 tag
the three-month stump address
Do you know how to transpose?
It’s easy, when the words fill your head, but the sprawl isn’t as graceful when we transform it into syllables, shapes, intonations, tongues, eyes.
I find it ironic that we are required to express ourselves linearly when our thoughts and emotions are anything but.
Teach me how I can write something that will...
1 tag
you will draw a mouth on the pumpkin so it can...
i am no longer wailing vagaries [at the top of these lungs] [[hoping you’ll hear]] no longer seeing gods face in [mugwine and sleepingpills] after all this time spent idly in a haze longing for some other haze, and a haze beyond that, and another, and a time before time, before time was;
these human hands strained to reach, forgetting all too readily what they could grasp; so...
1 tag
"major punk"
remember that late, winter night when you picked up some dank weed, in the boondocks of your hometown? everything was tinted with a bruised violet. maybe it was just a friend. an old high school friend, someone you never really were fond of anyway, because he was a sexist pig and a hoodlum prick who made fun of you for being a “major punk.” well aren’t you still one? shit, he...
September 2011
9 posts
1 tag
now, the future
there will come a point in due time when seduction will be regarded as the only law of physics that binds us together with brutal brutal nature the infinite beyond and that quiet place behind those closeted doors filled with soulless shoes that will never be worn in public for fear of losing control of yrself in a private moment on the concrete asphalt WHATEVER
there will be songs...
1 tag
duckface
one late nite cafe, two polos, one digital exchange, two dollar pizza slices, one aryan deity scratching sharp notes in forest green ink, two white-washed pairs of jeans, one modest attendant, two bombastic mouths, one silver watch the size of a small, hungry field mouse, two hot coffees w/ milk and sugar, several “bros”, many “man”s, four wooden chairs, one bespectacled ivory-haired man,...
2 tags
we come from groves that are tilled with waste we...
maybe he said something like ‘when i get back this will all be…’ but that’s just silly if only he knew that over medicated foliage his mechanical bird would arc into explosion careening into pathways and pointsmans leaving an unborn daughter to grow with wonder and want.
of course she always feared helicopters and no wonder we never watched movies about vietnam.
...
1 tag
Only Aldonza
lowlife got me all tangled up in veins with that heart beating up my neck i strain for courtesy, and it’s like overcast first day of fall every morning and i can’t see the pursuit of god is utterly quixotic though many men would gladly Don their silver suits and grab their Sanchos and race off into the windmill-scattered sunset; i promise when i wake up i will be new...
3 tags
even farmers carry knives
there comes a time in a man’s life when taking food off a stranger’s table becomes more than just a parlour trick and less of a fight for his survival.
it’s at that moment when you notice nothing is ever really well in the world, and you begin to finally realize the truth in ashbery’s words:
somewhere someone is traveling furiously toward you.
-suburbanmike
2 tags
garage music
dear darling arch your feet so hard so strong to tip toe gracefully across the room please push those parking tickets aside and please don’t mind the dust piles and the leaking fault lines stop by the volume knob to adjust for the sun and open the window wide and then come back beside me tapping along to the melody, crackling and fried like summertime.
1 tag
Bombay II (Poorer Translations)
(भारत के सूर्य अपनी स्मृति को साफ धो कर सकते हैं?मुझे लौटा.)
alarm clocks hiss and hurl across the a.m. bending to break the slumbers of men with hands made of wallet leather from swinging luggage pendulums and guiding airplanes with glowing sabers.
they march in symphony the pistons of taught skin and sighing muscle, removing wheel blocks and giving the go-ahead for take off.
cab drivers,...
1 tag
Preamble
we spilled wine and danced in shivering wheat fields grow uncautious my love grow unafraid my love grow restless and rest with me my love here drunk in the fields drunk on the stars our feet will turn calloused and black from the dusty pavement along the long predicate of road predicting our presence pinnacling into evening oblivion the tide is higher than raucous rampant unrevealing...
1 tag
the righteous brothers eat funnel cake in...
He had made it through two decades and that didn’t seem like a lot he had cut open his face two times requiring stitches but you could barely notice and once he was hit by a car but he walks just fine now and once he was in a war but he feels just fine now though his frame aches from the stresses of modern alienation and the newspapers slap the concrete each morning reminding him that...
August 2011
15 posts
1 tag
warm gunfire is happiness
whenever i start to go down and feel that uptown road turn from asphalt to gravel i begin to remember even nuns mature early and katy perry gets pimples and ryan gosling wipes his ass and i can’t always be right but i can try to do no wrong
it’s at that particular point the time to enjoy soap impressions is officially over as the velvet hand SLAPS MY FACE and i finally...
2 tags
Bloody by noon.
Knives like gaunt hawks can swoop through and gut you at any moment, unexpectedly, the sunlight carrying surprise torture.
maybe i’m just sorry, see maybe i’m not even hanging by a thread but i am the thread and it dances in the wind and frays like a mad man.
i can twist but i can’t shake it and all these tiny steps left behind some moustachioed rake wept over oak senseless...
1 tag
Atlanta
I think back to hot nights, hot redlighted couples kissing madly behind back-hall-dance-floors slurs of tongues melded together, battling each other for oral supremacy blink twice and its raining outside when you ask me to leave say you’re tired of painkillers and foreign pulses shaking the bed i stand outside on your rusty green porch hood up, joint sleeping in my fingers and...
1 tag
Almost like he tripped.
it was five o’clock which means drinkin time or shadow time and universally whistle blowin’ time when i realized i hadn’t uttered a single word yet that day and i didn’t miss just one person floating in some vapors it was many persons like a greek chorus dancing with synthesizer heads squeaking shiny stories about the future. i noticed again the fold of my skin evaporating...