April 2012
21 posts
2 tags
manifesto of unknown pleasure.
firstly, no, i will not keep calm and carry on there are too many actualities of presence in my way and lord knows we are perishable and will. i beg of you honesty in earnest and i vomit completely at the steps of your etsy shop when you tell me in peach pastel paisley on eight by five with lethal lace that everything will be fine, don’t worry. i worry, does your set of water colors with...
2 tags
delta gamma from upland california
when i tell you i’m breaking i mean tiny little nothings and baby magnificent sparks are creeping in at full force threading something that means so much i blend into surrounding particles. in the elevator i smelled a smell that nearly made me weep and today is your birthday and gone are the days when i held your ankles like pistols pointed to the ceiling with all kinds of smells sneaking,...
1 tag
santa rosa copan, 1968
thank god for dads for those who pat your shoulder with them big sturdy bear paws telling you your brain’s noble and good it’s good to talk shop with them, so do it share that the Mother Country needs some repairin’ what your thoughts on marriage and regional politics are and rant about not getting that damn lawnmower to start when they ask you how twitter works tell them...
2 tags
a tritina for memories buried in electronic...
The junk email keeps piling up there is a lawsuit against nuva-ring and one says hot russian escorts today. I can’t get through all of this today, the flimsy fluffy fucks I give up and why are they suing nuva-ring? If it weren’t for that shining nuva-ring there’d be one more of us today and I, more than he, needs growing up.
She’s looking up at me holding her nuva ring...
2 tags
old waves
all i can muster is a nouvelle-vague remembrance of that sunset on that quiet evening that late summer and that those ruby-lipped fireworks cracked and fizzled against a post-effervescent sky and faded away into curtain-less blinds
i drop another cigarette in an empty bottle and complete my transformation from total intervention to laissez-faire
i listen to the songs of dancing queens filling...
2 tags
Untitled #00002
already it seems like ages since i referred to you by name. i, too, have questioned everything about this lackluster rigamarole; but in the end i returned to visions of you (the dream of us in a crumbling house) what does it mean
2 tags
How The Phone Rings Silently & With Force
My desk is a mess again and the scratched and beaten cellular telephone hums lifelessly awake little do I know the lights and vibrations mean exploration of trenches between skin and bone and winding tunnels of colon and tar, and I hold back in front of him, a man who never cries, a man made of bullets and sand and sunned olive California hide,
which now, in my mind, is shriveled and empty,...
1 tag
smooth pulse, let me echo your crimson memory
surging with spring and stars in blue soft light i called your sacred name & the moon guided the black tides to land hand in hand you sang, with me on the sandy shore with winds lashing us both as night magic wove long tapestries over our warm flesh,
suddenly the sand became sheets and i called your sacred name once again but it echoed only into my pillow, no longer bathed in blue light, no...
2 tags
con papa y zanahoria (potatoes and carrots)
anybody who ever said word soup was serious lied it will burn your buds sure but maybe if you let it settle clusters of syllables both comprehensible and gobbledygook can tickle your bone funny or jab at your heart and if it really works it’ll make you give her a call tell me what you know about word soup boy gimme a lecture on meter and I’ll show you the cowbell in my pelvis say...
1 tag
black gold
smoky phone calls make me human again. whispering sadness between short, alert breaths while a yeti sits on my chest. its hair warms my words as i pace in the shape of the outlines of your eyes.
vivid, rich flowers live with dignity under moonlight! i’m crawling away from truth and breaking, yes, breaking tundras between my thoughts. i laugh when you smile across the phone lines. sweeping...
1 tag
south pointe at washington ave.
small surly woman sucking her teeth with dunes surrounding those pupils so big they’re enough to make a believer out of me here you are, at last, winking at the mirror winking at the girl with tiny teeth next to you winking at the liver spotted man with a flat cap for a crown here you are, winking, because this is you and you are water this is puddle this is puddle but you, miss, are a pond...
2 tags
You asked me if I went to Wesleyan, Pts. 1 & 4
1. “LEDOUX-KID FRANCIS”
i may not have any luck but i’ve got a charm i can’t turn off.
i told mom i was looking really hard, i keep looking and bending and crouching and tip toeing through dark bedrooms until slivers of secret moons push back moons of secret moans, moons who have always known
well i met a nice girl from raleigh i think that might be the only way to go find a nice...
1 tag
drifting away on an empty stomach
i haven’t eaten since reagan was president she said.
i laughed blood.
i tried to untie myself but i was a kept man. actually, i quite enjoyed the freedom.
she wandered out of sight, ≈ fourteen feet away. exact distance, i couldn’t perceive; i wasn’t spectacled at the time.
staring at empty drywall gives life a sullen purpose, a maiden voyage, a bone appetite for...
1 tag
graveyard shift party 2k12
we’re pulling a bruce banner tonight only without the bulk with the snare delivering a crisp sound in the garage just keep the thing playing just keep on delivering look we are dancing in stop motion we just keep twisting and spinning our heads and our feet keep tapping I do not want tonight to end buttons buttoned morals in check I just want tonight to be femurs clapping palms...
2 tags
sisyphus happy hour
the deaths that form before summer make steps to climb through all over with slicked slanted shoulders crawling and holstered. what a night! they let exhausted laughter pour out and under like blankets of thunder. they knew a lot of things, like when it was coming or when it was running, hugging streams under the agony of the stars. we, smuggled and smoldered, thinned smiles and stared, as...
4 tags
concert
Parted through a fern and trellis I cut cool morning summer air with my knives eyes and saw for the fullest minute a stranger moving muscles to tie her sweaty hair into a sloppy bun in front of what could have been her mother’s full length mirror like the one my mother had with a swivel and I saw her guests arrive downstairs without her notice And the hair tied up to keep herself together knowing...
3 tags
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...
3 tags
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 on this road....
1 tag
palmistry
another dream of you. maybe i became caught up in the way tragedy tastes; upon waking i acquiesced to the simplicity of a heart quietly yearning.
though/maybe
just the sight of you , just the slight passing of words with you is enough light for me to read these wandering lines in your palms by.
2 tags
untitled
two souls untamed can only truly unjealously romp in ways the outsiders would never know, maybe we are beyond sin and retribution, maybe there is no virtue or evil or reward or punishment, there is only the way we connect electrically and mentally and syntactically in this one particular moment pausing in the stream like a gag fly in an ice cube, we sit on sofas and lawnchairs and i count...
3 tags
3(2)
In some artparty scene she brayed barely nineteen with stilettos and a give-a-fuck lean pausing the room to be illuminated and carelessly dragging an empty bottle of wine.
When the mermaid set free with shoulder length aqua-marine her campfire creaking notes felt mean eye-smiling shark-like through floorboards of cross-legged men with faces like twine.
In the hallway or slouching mezzanine a...
