January 2011
31 posts
1 tag
MAGGIE CHEUNG'S DELTA DIADEM +1
Maggie Cheung crosses her legs on a
single oar - seven thousand feet above the biggest from now on in clot of human. Undertaking the greatest role of her career, in the penumbra mar of Macau she leads 27 china white dolphins and 1,326 myriad fish to the predestined swallow of all dorsals. Drowning lies the crown, to a thresh hold where head matters not ever more.
She picks up deathless...
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a post hoc realization
A chapter of your life can be measured by possession.
By things left behind.
The hair clips left on your bed. Her toothbrush in your bathroom. A section of your closet left for a dress.
Soft bruises on her skin. Some fading away, some fresh. The patterns her nails made on yours.
The heavy price of intimacy and for only a chapter.
One day the imprint you leave on her nose from the frame of...
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standing still
i’ve never worn a peacoat in my life
i pride myself on that one minor fact
that lack of feeling gives me the wisdom to trudge through the labors of the seasons
my old man used to tell me wisdom is for the birds falling from the sky
who cares about birds they fly south for the winter running away from their future away from the cold (like it ever gets cold here)
i always...
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Wren Rainbow Rose
i can’t believe what life has done to me and how we glide over what we don’t see but grab for those which can’t
it’s almost over
two lane black top two-lane blacktop two lanes, black tops
kicking and screaming and when they ask i’ll say i’m wesley and i do nothing she sends kisses and i break down verse chorus verse breakdown
this boy is exhausted with hopeless happiness and how no ones...
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lawnchair larry, you're a silly man
Back sometime in ‘82, there was a man who filled 45 balloons with helium and tied them to his lawn chair; and why anyone in their right mind would conjure such a feat, no one knows.
But we do.
People like us (just a bunch of damn fools, we’re sure!) dream of flying or going to space, touching clouds, shaking God’s hand, or something else of the kind and just as big.
There are other...
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Springs
When I woke up this morning dogs were barking. I live in a quiet neighborhood on a hill and it was sun bathing when I decided to stop staring and start taking the round ivory blur sitting in my palm. The tops of trees yawned calmly and I could hear every single cry in each cell in my cavernous body and remembered two days ago watching a bathroom stall door melt in front of me and red my eyes. I...
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Faustian Bargain
Flesh on wood, knocks echoed freely under a moon cloaked night. (four raps is enough)(or was it three?)
Sweets welcomes to you, defiant creator of Red Niles and oxblood smeared papyrus.
(We tortured twins will forge conference under these raven-filled skies…)
The hungry ground shook. Dinner party ramblings and bitter goblets swung wildly in greedy hands, crashing madly together. One faint...
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nora was a guest room queen
oh was I asking for it I tell you he had me sprawled like an arachnid limbs as disobedient as a m a o they flattened r i n the creases of the surface e and along with his potions t t my back paints a scene e’ he made me an angel ...
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wise man
Focus, dream speaker. forest green cries and snowman tears paint the ground light— a white, holy glow spewing out from a frigid, unforgiving sea. “Halfway though the dark,” they once said. Fickle spirit, ease your eagle heart. Mighty wings hovering to an earthy sanctuary, a meticulous eye over the monochrome land. Lay in workers’ oil-stained hands, slip into visions of Route 66, ...
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caladium in colodo
i rememerd one no maybe two things she were a ghostfucker she loved to do those things sometimes she had movie eyes an she flickers other boys faces onto other boys faces
sometime she cried a lot with that stuff all on her stains on her faces i thought was that fun or boy oh meanie boy am i disgusting
once she was sad an choky in her throat little hiccups like a bird but deeper lke a well and...
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HOLLER AT THE ADMISSIONS COMMITTEES
Years turn into months turn into weeks turn into minutes and deadlines and notifications have come and left and they are still going and you wonder what it is they are looking for that you do not have and you think perhaps you weren’t good enough or you didn’t lie enough or perhaps it was best you were meek and prudent but really you should have shown what you did have and you should have just...
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mr. creamy caught a glimpse of madness*
You’re driving through the warehouse district tailing the ice cream truck for six blocks (and there would have been more if you didn’t catch it so quickly) and you say, “I’ve been trying to catch him for three weeks!” You’re lying. I guess strangers would think nothing of it. But I can see your controlled episode of mania and I see tonight’s events will end up in engorged capillaries from your...
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tripping the road fantastic
words do not express feelings of lust neither do actions only gazes ad nauseum and the light twists of hair tossed aside like wrapping paper at a birthday party for an army brat with no discernible talents except melting hearts and french horn
how far can that get you maybe far i don’t know i’m not an agent i’m a man
yesterday’s pomade like burnt cake how hungover am i...
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she said something important but i could only feel enough to text back ‘ok’ and then worried too much about whether or not i sounded like bret easton ellis. so call it a night.
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AUNTIE'S LOCK / III: KEEP IN GATES THE DOLDRUM...
Benumb as she was, Bembe’s knees bent her feet no closer than where primal fear embed her. The key’s single jewel dimmed a bit, noting his companion’s complete lockout. Therein lies the essential placidity of the awkward moment.
Two opposing shoulders brush on the subway’s stair case, one arm-owner drops the house key from her hand. In the chasm between fumbling people and...
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DSM-IV 300.6
1.Shower
january wet-step push past breaking breaths in cathy corridor a silent non-existence when the prickly skin sails fall drip dowry of loyalty, of anxiety and depression- it’s neither the nordic tan lines lace backwards the invisible push pins marking dismantling it’s not nothing and it’s nothing crafted in journals alfredo, alfredo come breathless your fears the oxygen stays in the room...
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AUNTIE'S LOCK / II: COME
There were ten point two yards separating Bembe and her buckled flats. There was about fourty seven minutes that Adaluz made herself distant into the city for groceries, notably new mangos, a set of ratchets, and pulled pork for a stew she was trying to make. It had the potential energy to be a moving dish. Passive and quite possibly on an entirely primeval plane, Bembe requested Skittles as...
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House on Vicentia
She’s got razor thin eyebrows and she lives in Dana Point. They say Upland, they say Downey. Valencia, whisper LaBianca, Corona is crowning. Maybe Irwin just like Kit Carson, maybe Pasadena is palm lined love and arson, how hops off freeways were hops off blue skies. Alex sang docks a certain sadness that he never got to meet Walt Disney, his bay bones sturdy in the Santa Anas. Coastal to...
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AUNTIE'S LOCK / I: 14 YEARS BACK
Bembe was blessed with the creeps, primarily of which was a penchant for undoing locked things. It all began at age two. Feeling her primal hunger sine, in a precocious spurt of digital ability she managed to successfully unlatch her mother Elicia’s bra, much to her father Ibrahim’s amusement and her mother’s aid. Onward through the years, this became more of a pestilence what...
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Alaska: An Obsevation by M. Svevo
Chicks with big hair are always a plus. Like this girl I knew. The same products other women with fine/normal hair used to bring up their volume (“this is what you use to ‘tease’ your roots” — I’ll never understand what that means), their Garnier mousses and their Aussie hairsprays, were the same products she used to tame her locks in some form or another.
If genetics only allowed...
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october, colorado
how cold my ivory hands are, when they dance over your warm vibrant throat and your infinite charm washes warm over me. the shutters in your eyes flip up and down. how sweetly, how quietly could you cry at the torque and wind washed valley, barking back the heat of my breath with power lines humming like fathers- but suddenly the oil blue star pinned night rips me back again. and it’s done. and...
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drunk is just a four-letter word
she is dirty he is gutless they are nameless and drenched in fear drunk on jacaranda wine and common nightmares on disneyland dreams and wooden roller coasters and budding flowers
if she breathed any harder she’d drink him her lips were a straw her tongue acted a chinois keeping the heavy particulates out not that there were many to sift
intercepted from reality appropriately on...
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fig. b: the ice-maker has two settings
No mirrors no reflective surfaces all my tumblers and flasks and snifters are made of marble and mortar i think it’s safe to say i like the way your lips your lips your teeth are stained and its not polite to say that girls from the valley tuck back their teeth what i mean is that they know how to get deep, they’ve got caves in their mouths I’ve got a crush on Kirsten Dunst I watch her movies on...
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vertical challenge
the chairness of the chairs in that shotgun of a bar caused my back to cock erect
i never knew sitting could make me taller than i am while standing
even tonight when i wear my boots
the ones with maple heels that click like horse-hooves on the sidewalk down the avenue
after sunset when the sidewalk gets damp and dewy and cold that’s when i paso fino to that 12-gauge and...
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One morning, one weekend, in the city.
1.
This morning I passed a ghost on the street. She was making soft patterns along the longitude of different melons and humming sweetly the sounds of winter and wishes. In the histories of this city are tales of a romance that ran so wildly it appeared only in overexposed photographs and the morning winces of regret stared back from porcelain. But passing her briefly, tied to the neck in...
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marrython
one time when i was wishing for a stroke or a cerebral hemorrhage to take the use of my left body i watched a model run the boston marathon in under five hours
her reddish-maroon hair bounced with every heavy step into the cement it was like she walked on concrete wet concrete without leaving footprints behind
as she crossed the finish line she refused a glass of water
she lit a cigarette...
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enthused and contused
sore and glow and ache and yes and scars oh and no and to catch your suns in two jars resting by and by to please atop pools of sage green they pierce and scream and beg for my Serene
silent mouths and crimson marks on blinding skin leave me you and ah and yes your devilish eyes they grin for eons hours minutes (seconds too) to leave me swooned like hungry beached nymphs gaping from...
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Suicide Pier (Caustic Curator)
1.
Guys take girls to derbies and make dailies they look like tour guides with their sharp eyes in tussled pomade paisleys and when another one struts by they just need to make time the guy puts a hand on her hip excuse me corduroy the sun made me wince then slip and something about the moisture in the air and her hair well she can wait for him, run in place and press play again and when he...
1 tag
we (used to) build things
dogs are sad creatures so are artists so are construction workers but you don’t hear them complaining about
SHIT
they just make shit and go home they eat their food they shit shower and shave (sometimes) they go to work wearing hard-plastic helmet-hats and leather-laced boots catcalling loose women as they hip-shake by (we all know that any woman choosing to walk by a job...
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the solips
Together. Tissue in the nose, spoon bending convalescence. Psychic. My eyes are confined, buttoned, your blood rushes through those fevered paws, GO, GO, GO, just below these penrose ribs - Iditarod dreams felt hills on in. A palm read says your hip plays Tchaikovosky like an astral Rickenbacker six twenty to my discontiguous self. I think of Søren and Regine shacked up, but they melt...
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auld lang syne stupor
Cathode ray tubes glow behind the glass, and their motion images illumine the walls, flickering pink and blue. Captain Kirk’s voice reverberates within the cubed enclosure, bouncing on, off, and away. And his words hit the frozen tiled floor, which is mottled with sneakers, undergarments,...