05/18/2013 at 9:18 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
.
I want flowers
but I do not want
Too many
When I used to have slow time
I love you more than anything
else right now
It will remain in
the magazine
forever
I’ve been alone
in places a lot
I know I’ve been
my body before
all the
time
starving and comfortable
most of the time I’m my tooth
If I had known you were
coming here
I would have baked
you a cake
“that’s not god”
I overheard
Did I just change my life
around an imaginary chef?
I like to be the beast
Welcome to New York.
05/17/2013 at 8:12 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
go learn the world
make your way
stupid thing
glow me a ball
for five hundred
minutes. I will
solve my legs
and beg
you gave me
cake and I could
not eat
a thing
I danced
through
nice
to see
you
i did not know this was such a swank banquet
i leant you my lunch and you fed me dinner
love was taught
to be violent
by accident
notes from
a lecture on
blindness
05/07/2013 at 10:18 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Can I
become
Anonymous
again?
Flesh, pure
and simple
Cartilage?
(I feel like I’ve
known you
all of my
life but
we’ve only
just met)
An exodus? Thin
Caviar khaki legs?
Dip me in juices
Baby I’m wet
The breathing begins
at the end of the head.
A combination of death and
fresh fish.
four ear lobes
Tacked to the wall.
a minor loss for the
Greater good.
I have measured many
Moments with the curve
of their content, allowing
An easy drift across the
Surface.
05/05/2013 at 3:24 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poerty
(for t/s)
You
have to
wait
here until
you feel the
Air
See? They did
not know the
Secret of the
Wind
metaphor comes
before meaning
That sound of wood
means the bell
Is not
ringing
You render
the world
and then
your gone
05/01/2013 at 11:08 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
It has to be worded absolutely perfectly
“Everything is going to be fine”
“Everything is going to be home”
“Everything is going to be gone”
this assorted world is a
pantomime
glue and elmers
and scissors with
cardboard
i will cut out a doll
and prop you
two dimensional
and simple
one thing
is what
you
will
always
be
if i come
close enough
to you
i am going
to hit you.
blood, ventricle
a brain bursts
unicorn
i was super
future thinking
and i saw jelly
cubes
expanding.
04/28/2013 at 9:27 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Small red circles
are buttons on
your lip
Press them to
hear the
Weather or
change the
Channel
Eyes were
imported from
fine beads in
China
(silicone coating
ensures a limited
time offer)
Eleven ferraris
and all are on fire
Twelve hundred
panels of liquid
narrative None of
them love
letters
This winter
is new gone, baby
paint SPRING all over
me
(You can
not create
an algorithm
for how a
brush stroke
Functions)
thistles
are perfectly random
variables
This winter was
Hi res and lossless
an opaque ice
Sphere
I wanted to curdle
all of our old snow
flakes for dinner
I wanted arms with
Hair, hard noses
I cannot paint
the world with
A keyboard
Your technology
was twisted, nubs
of flaccid functions
I sent you a
Message and
You never
responded
It is like screaming.
no one speaks to
A screamer
04/24/2013 at 4:59 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Welcome to awesome city
why is it
My impulse
to do a
Little dance
Right now?
(All of the interesting
Things are in
the world)
We are tyrant
Agents
film flam
Fashion suck
I got you two orchids
One is blue one is red
I made them out of garbage
They are expensive
04/20/2013 at 12:48 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Don’t fuck
with my
Hands
They are
My cocks
I need
Them
Since
when is
this Real
Spring?
I don’t
Give a fuck
about
Stupid City
Pay me real
Eggs and
Butter me
Up
candy machine
drug machine
When you
lose feeling
It is difficult
to find
It
Where did I
hide it?
In the cupboard
In the attic
I’m not
going to
let you
kill my hands
04/17/2013 at 5:36 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
These are the dirty ones
Here is the machine
Eat the grinding
Salt. Lick that
turn it new-
burn.
I forgot to
Rip my
heart
out
thank
You for
setting me
on fire so
Gently
I can’t build manhattan, baby
These bones aren’t good for
Nothing. You tie four twigs
on four limbs and call me
Lovely. I eat air like men.
I am dog, torrential.
04/16/2013 at 10:22 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Speak
softly
I don’t want
anyone
to
Die
ever.
We are
having a
Conversation
we have
spoken once
an hour
Over the course
of a weekend
A fragment was
handled
I have said
numerous
Syllables
I have uttered
mischievous
Eyes
You said get
out but
I can
not
My hand
is numb
my
mouth
is minding
it’s own
Buisness
I left on a
plane
out
Of the country
but it
Exploded.
04/12/2013 at 12:40 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Go fuck yourself
In a white
Room
Alone
04/11/2013 at 10:13 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
He strained his back
while lifting
a box
of rain
coats
There’s a death certificate
in Florida
(Twelve cigarettes after work
Eighteen on the weekends)
Curse the darkness
instead of feeling
for the
Light switch
“don’t
argue with
the rain, honey”
Yes
I have
A bird in
my bag
but
You are not
supposed to
Know that.
04/07/2013 at 3:31 pm · Filed under poems
in memory of Daniel Reich
_______________________________
If you are going
to kidnap
yourself
You must do
it in
the dark.
No cameras,
no watchman,
ensure that the
moon is
A central
location.
Know the
destination
of where you
will be held
hostage
If you forget
no one
will know
where you’ve
Gone.
when i was a
little boy,
i was a chicken
farmer.
the head farmer
was the nicest man
you’d ever want
to meet.
he was rich
but he put all of his money
in the chicken farm.
one night
it caught on fire
i saw a big flame.
it was the
chickens
flaming,
ablaze.
04/04/2013 at 12:22 am · Filed under poems
Nothing can come
out of me
Nothing will ever
come out of
me
Nice
Context
where
did you
get that?
these public statements are permanent
The artist is not a liar
The liar is an artist
I bought a
book and
i used the
book
to build
a house
one cannot
live in a
book
but
a book
can make
a beautiful
house.
03/31/2013 at 12:37 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Do you see
the fat lady?
anticipating her
Melody?
We are going to
make these
ceilings
Explode
Glitter, god
and pomp galore.
The black rosé,
the black rosé.
I warble at
you really
Dear
I have set
out all
the garland
Please stay
to gaze with me
The roses in the
Closet
A pinhole
entrance
large enough for
A chorus
I can hear this beautiful
echo it
Denies me
It denies
03/24/2013 at 12:30 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
His mother and his sister
seem very normal
All of us are already
very sexy clean
and professional
Our generic names will serve
us well
I am not an idiot
just because
I’m artistic
There is so much more
before me
I am
so small you are
History
what is
Living
and what
Isn’t
I am crazy
and now
I am
going
hunting.
03/20/2013 at 7:42 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Track the movements of
the Face
If I can’t understand it
Give me an
Apparatus
tongue tied
speech spoke
Think box
Minus
FORTY thousand
Dollars
discounted.
eat your
Rabbit, dry
a cabbage
I saw you in the backyard
On the swing for a bit
I don’t have the
Havoc an attic filled
with sawdust
This isn’t
the way
You should
Be looking
at it.
03/11/2013 at 11:03 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
beautiful things
are horrifying
when you look
at them.
i used the twine in
my arm to loan
my ear to you
it is a multicolored
throb of ribbon
it was muffled
though you could not
hear me crying
i could not
see i was a
body.
i am persistent.
this is a broken wallet,
a wooden game.
i vomit thousands
of children
i am pedestrian,
clean.
you place a slab of
red beef on my
chest and i
laugh
i am made for hell and
paper and you
are water water, water
03/09/2013 at 5:56 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Were you
surprised to
hear the news
that you are
Dead?
Eaten alive
by your
Tongue?
Your jaw,
chewing your brain
And spitting it out
through your mouth?
A memorial service
will be held
when you are dirt
and I am
Salivating
to prepare.
03/08/2013 at 12:05 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
being in the body
you never see me
the world is a stable place
it will always be there
if you are
i wanted to take a walk to
sit somewhere
the world is weird I don’t
want to talk
You do not produce harmony
The head is to the left the head is to the right
You have to see the head on the left
If you want to see the head on the right
I am taken
Apart
By the joy of dumb mirrors- color:
Blue, defined- majestic and pure
Distilled and preserved.
The color as it is, separate
From object,
Not as shade perceived
attached but as tone
you are
the
wind
and
i
love
you
02/07/2013 at 1:12 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Flowers are open
twenty four hours.
What do I do
with this
Soft thing?
Lots of holes
are empty and
my blanket is broken
Don’t make me
cry in
public
it’s not
fair i won’t
take
it
I cannot see my
grandmother
today.
I cannot carry all of
These soft things
At once
they
are too heavy
which is off
putting
considering
How soft they
are like air
I thought I would be light
But I am not
I cannot read
Plato or the newspaper
I want to laugh and
rub my nose all
over you
is my soft thing sad
Because it is dead?
Are all dead shrouds
Soft things, large
husks we roll
down in on hills
I would like to fold
All of the planes
in this room until
they are all as
Close as they can be
less space- no space
how little space can
the body take?
It is a revolting habit,
taking space.
02/06/2013 at 1:28 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
I want those Hands
in this Room
I own
in the
Center
I want glass boxes
that rotate with
jewels I want crystals
Chew my finger
Paint a portrait
This leather sofa
is made from
a dead animal
You can read
dumb like a
novel off that
face in
the mirror
my time is
a room
that goes
backwards
&
forwards
01/23/2013 at 8:36 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Things that make you reel
the gut can push a tear
I have four indexes that
run down my spine,
each of them read with
a different lense, enough
to make my body cascade
or bend
fill this plastic sack
with experiments in
volume
How much water will make
it burst, how many bricks
will make it break?
I salvage the leak and
lay it across my legs
I will wear a broken
bag for years before I
learn how to mend
it together
again
no tailor sews two
of us together
there is no gravity
doctor causing
the door
to drop
your jaw
how can you believe that
is lying there and no
one noticed it before?
such a jagged worthy beast,
those globes turn and end,
the back expands
oh caliban my
caliban why
won’t you
leave me
be
01/23/2013 at 12:00 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
Draw the end of the world
as a platform
make that shape
stay there in
your ear
Then you
won’t know what
you are
missing
what is under those pants
how those eyes will work
forever
You will not miss
the stranger you
see before you
who you want
to know but
will never pass
again, nor even
remember later
from this casual
passing
so easily
over
01/20/2013 at 11:56 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
super sexy things get
over death by
checking their coats
and minding the steps
or thinking about
farrah fawcet
I walked away
from the world
when I couldn’t
eat anymore
burritos
and my
hair
didn’t
grow
anymore
anyway
A physical description
includes race and fashion
regardless of your birthday
or the tone of your glare
I am there the
person always
sitting
here
I own developments
and I sublease horizons
on the weekends
I make poems out
of madonna sonnets
I am a million dollars
overnight in Miami
I am stamped and I bump
and I used to date a woman
named Sophia
I was in the witness protection
program
because I am dead
and in jail
and I killed myself
to disappear
me and my boys
shot a woman in the chest
and no one can recognize me
anymore these days
I’m a celebrity
I’m just not famous
yet
american mess.
01/09/2013 at 12:54 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
why am i thinking
in sitcoms
?
i feel bad about
being sad.
i’m always making
a first impression.
the pleasant face designs itself.
a coward mood.
we have
a ghost
you age
with stones
i am having a fantasy
of a comedian beating the shit
out of me.
01/05/2013 at 2:30 am · Filed under poems
i use ice
but i don’t make
ice.
i’ll admit it.
i think the
dick is
the funny
silly thing
i don’t wear earmuffs,
i don’t wear earmuffs,
i’m freezing.
12/21/2012 at 3:24 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poems , poetry
are you going to have
a picture of yourself alone
on the beach?
that picture
in your profile
of you alone
that everyone
gets
are
you
going
to have
that?
11/28/2012 at 9:07 pm · Filed under poems
My mother told me her “diamonds
are small now”
in reference to the panels of plastic
stained glass she has applied to
each of the tiles
lining her kitchen.
I was home, earlier this week,
when her diamonds were larger
and I laughed, to which she took
scissors to her plastic
stained glass diamonds
shrinking them in half.
I always see the wild world and I
Go wild, inconsolable with glee
I tend to feel a future with different textures,
as if by some act of advancement
my entire universe would be composed
of a different type matter.
this is what poetry does to me, the poetry
of the self, which shrinks or engrosses,
captivating my imagination with the
potential of escaping.
Is it memory, the fragment abstract that is so
easy, a different bundle of colors and in
there i am warm, or broken- sometimes
shaking.
poetry extracts that, dazzles it dancing- other
wise I starve, eyes blotted and everything is
paper, stiff and empty.
I like to watch the world go wild but
i have to do it on my knees.
i have to make the moment current.
I am hunger, sleep and over.
06/11/2012 at 6:56 pm · Filed under poems
hey if your
definitely real
we should swap
e-mails
your supposed
to break
your heart a lot
that’s the death orgasm,
thats what that is
the only moments notice
one split millisecond
but i destroy my sentiment
otherwise
it’s like
a
fant
asy
05/28/2012 at 11:16 am · Filed under poems
I’m the warm boy
throw all of your horror at me
people know my name but
I don’t know how.
I’d rather go to an office
than
raise a child
in america
I started crying
and then you started crying
and then
we were hit
by cars.
My job is bad
for my posture
I need to get
my house in order
Let me enjoy my
day and don’t call
me back. I want to
take a picture of you
with the flag.
I made objects in my mind
out of metal and smashed them
I have the authority to make
arbitrary judgements on others
who are different
I will never return to my childhood
because we had to sell it
If you are hot
Pour water on yourself
don’t touch me
She says as he laughs
touching her
don’t touch me
There is
a line here
this world is extraneous matter
I will only linger looking like
This for a moment.
04/09/2012 at 5:50 pm · Filed under poems
in lieu of flowers
please do not lose
your mind
they are a different
breed
the ones that love
horses
life is much
better
when
it is
on
camera
02/12/2012 at 4:44 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
money is a fiber game, and i am texture knit
in a coil of matter. two eyes rolled out of a hole
in the wall and spit the universe all over my
interior. i have four billion meters of nothingness
and indians used to own all of it.
a story slipped through the window and i read
a game about newspapers. i told the mayor i
was in a triathlon and i was appointed to a
committee for removing the bark of sycamores.
we will leave the leaves.
i had a finger before it was smashed in the
graveyard, and now i lecture about the state
of historical drugstores. i never made a dollar
off of selling acorns so i tore down the tree and
made the bark into a dream store
02/01/2012 at 5:27 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: art , death , mike kelley , poetry
in memory of mike kelley
everything
goes
to
the
dogs.
adults are
imagination keepers,
employed
to imagine the
future.
i have been
informed
that it is
illegal
to
raise alligators
in your
private
home.
death is a home
for
alligators and
dogs.
once
there was
only one
person
left
who was
still
imagining
the world.
life was only green
on white doors, lies
or hope, either/or.
we all must share
in maintaining
the illusion
of meaning.
if you stop
imagining
the world
it
will
stop
imagining
you.
we do not know who
death is.
we know where it is,
it is in
the ground.
up over by the reservoir
up over the hill
this is where
we hide our
dead
animals.
my grandmother
has
a pile
of her
old love
letters.
she asked
me if she could
trust me
to bury them
with her
but never
read them.
I’ve always been
afraid
to
be
put
out.
01/17/2012 at 2:21 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
listen, if i’m gonna be dead later
i don’t believe in now.
there are weird feelings
all over
and it has nothing to do
with pain.
living is a sensitivity due
to the
weather.
i just happen to know
the feeling of it,
after awhile, i’m
no longer
interested.
a townhouse was blown to bits
and a woman gave birth on njtransit.
i laid on a carpet staring at
a warhol and the townhouse
is pleasant and i am not
pregnant.
what
is
the
difference
we
are
on
completely
different
wavelengths
and
i
am
just
transmitting
messages.
why would you believe in
life when you believe
in death? existence
is a contradiction
in common
sense.
nature is insulted
by our delusional
demeanor. the
trees find us
pretentious, and
the moon thinks
we are retarded.
i am in
litigation
with a
sun
set
and
my roses
are sending
me
death
threats.
the reality
is
the moment something
goes up your ass
the
whole
world
falls
apart.
“to be serious,
dead serious:
spread me down
park avenue from
a tin can”
is that
a cigarette
or a
slim jim?
i do
not
believe
i understood
the
question.
01/11/2012 at 2:18 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
to encourage
that there is a
difference
in
the experience
of time
based on
the biological state
of
a being in motion
is to encourage the notion
that time is a sprectum,
not a moment.
i am flesh mound,
a tuft of cellular
division.
i have
word tools, face
moves and two
thousand years
of nothing.
i measure with
my eye
ball,
with a green
glass
bottle tint.
i understand the
depths of sadness
i understand why you
would reject
it in public.
all we want
is the moment
of conception
to continue.
to see in an
other
the reflection
of our origin,
the orgiastic
pleasure of
beginning.
the
funny thing
about myself
is that i don’t
often
see myself
only
the things
around
me.
you can’t get
past this why
would you
i can’t imagine
why you
would.
01/09/2012 at 3:24 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
i don’t want to
make a new
world.
i want blood
not data.
this world
is a business
if you do not
grow up
you
just grow
old.
a human heart
is a portrait. no
one thinks a lion
goes
to
heaven.
we missed
out
on
meaning.
everything
is
a
web
page.
you must believe
in
the magic
of
story.
you
must
watch
it
unfolding.
01/02/2012 at 6:40 pm · Filed under poems
(adapted from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chemical_bond)
covalent bonding
involves the
sharing
of electrons
the positively charged
nuclei of two or more atoms
simultaneously attract the
negatively charged electrons
that are being shared
between
them.
in a so-called ‘covalent’ bond,
one or more electrons are drawn
into the space between two atomic nuclei.
the negatively charged electrons are attracted
to the positive charges of both nuclei,
instead of just their own.
this overcomes
the repulsion
between the two
positively charged
nuclei,
as this
overwhelming
attraction holds
the two nuclei
in a fixed
configuration
even though
they will
still vibrate
at
equilibrium
position.
a less often
mentioned
type of bond
is the metallic bond.
In this type of bonding,
each atom
donates one
or more electrons to
a “sea” of electrons
that
reside
between
many metal
atoms.
In this sea, each electron is free
(by virtue of its wave nature) to be
associated with a great many atoms
at once. The bond results because
the metal atoms become positively
charged
due to loss
of their electrons,
while the electrons remain
attracted to many atoms,
without being part
of
any
given
atom.
in an ionic bond, the bonding
electron is not shared at all,
but transferred.
In this type
of bond, the
outer atomic orbital
of one atom has
a vacancy
which allows
addition of
one or more
electrons.
these newly added electrons
potentially occupy a lower
energy-state (effectively
closer to more nuclear charge)
than they experience in a
different atom. Thus, one
nucleus offers a more tightly
bound position
to an electron
than does another
nucleus, with the result
that one atom may transfer
an electron to the other.
This transfer
causes one atom
to assume a
net positive charge,
and the other
to assume a
net negative charge.
For further reading, refer to: “Jane Eyre” by Charlotte Bronte
12/28/2011 at 3:13 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poems , poetry
you can call me
flower if you want
to. i jumped in the
river
but there
was nothing
there.
There is no
narrative
of how you arrived
Here.
“It is all relative,
i guess”
she said.
“relative to nothingness”
I replied.
and death is
the
reward
a flash full
of
stars.
I don’t give a
hoot
about everyone’s
journey.
we’re not going
through
a journey
we are dying
slowly.
these people
are hope and
they live and
burn and then
“look at those poor leaves
hanging on” the mother said
“thats supposed to be very
inspiring” (but its not) we
said.
“A picture of the
fire does not
keep us warm”
(only a fire
actually
burns.)
if my
Mind is a
Container
the rest of
the world is fuzz.
don’t talk about
magic
all meaning
is conventional and
the Internet
is the end of
language.
normalcy is the real virus
a plague on our people
the manger is melting,
please do not feed
the animal.
the syndrome is
Civilization
the symptom
is repression.
and death
is the reward
for getting
through the
absurd
other than that
All we have
is accumulated
Culture
And the conversation
You are having.
Which is only true
because
you
are
having it.
everything
will work out
for you,
but if it
doesn’t, it’s
not like
it ever
does
any
way.
my mind
does not
concern
me.
12/20/2011 at 12:51 am · Filed under poems
you will always
feel yourself
that is the only
environment
you will ever be
in.
nothing else
will ever
change
even if
everything
else
does.
this
is
how
it
goes.
you are
neither
dead
nor
alive
you have
been
fed
a lump
of
lies
and you
will
swallow
it very
slowly.
you can smile
as an occupation
i’ll pay you to
pretend
that every
thing is
fine.
the body writes
its own script and
there is no
yellow
brick
road.
only
a catheter
shoved
down
your
smallest
hole.
i love the
fact that
we will
never
arrive
at a
concrete
conclusion
there is only
just enough
time to
keep
guessing.
12/14/2011 at 9:09 pm · Filed under poems
we will need
a cover
letter resume and
a writing sample.
friends are
santa clause
or jesus.
popping cherries
and cigar tubes
live in your butt.
you have to learn how
to ask a question
by receiving a
central broadcasting
system.
i have paid for
a circumcision
and my education.
there is no difference,
no reason.
palm beach is a place
where the world
loses interest.
the world is a polygon
of nothingness
you thought it was made
of stone
it is made of gas.
i think
you should know
that i know.
the world is
a beautiful loft
on the worst
block in
newark.
i can’t buy sardines,
but i’ll sell you my spit
in a jar.
once the needle is inside of you
you can feel it moving around.
a local anesthesia and
an earmarked dessert.
there is no confusion
two doctors and two nurses
will cover you in plastic.
end of story.
there are no problems
the end result
is a simple thing.
an injection,
a split second.
and when we are
done
we will have dinner
at a
fancy restaurant.
it is easier when we
find the right location
to release the medication.
the computer will relay
a simulation of information.
touch it now
you will not feel anything.
you will feel pressure
from movement inside your skin.
not pain, but pressure
talking will be a fact of
pain, and women
can take more than men.
men are babies when
it comes to pain
it is a fact of life.
it is total truth.
if a man had to have a baby
the world would feel fine
because it would be a movie
and you’d be at home
dealing with personal
issues.
i was just about to
go to bed
i don’t have the freezer
space.
i want to lift
the world.
i cannot
move
my mind
it is dead weight, one side
said to the other
i have to ask
you
something.
12/09/2011 at 2:51 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
hell does not
have
a
living
room.
duh
because then
you are
dead.
12/08/2011 at 8:56 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
three thousand years i don’t
give a shit
nero was
a state of missouri, hell
was there we
turned a
knob.
don’t go gambling
or stock market house buying.
a wolf in wolfs clothing is
the same as a wolf, your
mother was right, life
insurance is more
important than
life.
i withdraw
i wasn’t
in the beginning,
i don’t know why
matter made me,
i’m so tired,
you’re
so asleep. an entire
person just fell out of
my body, i’m not a woman
i cannot throw babies.
this is a theatre of air,
i looked under the curtains
nothing is there.
you will cry.
based on a common assumption of existence as curve, you are broken, battered and belly up.
you were torn and thrown out into the cold, get over being born, now you’re alone go write a book.
12/04/2011 at 6:18 am · Filed under poems
the idea
of the
house
is constant.
windows move in front of me,
i am
enveloping
air.
i didn’t want anything
to do with dead things,
my fingers are white,
a knuckle is torn.
i don’t give
a flying fuck
if you forgot
about
death.
you are stupider
than your mothers
head if you came
out of the vagina
again.
wear a goddamn necklace.
throw all of the pennies
at the school children.
i will sell your fucking
eye lashes.
i am a goddamn
house and i mean
it.
i am talking to death.
i am in discourse with
everyone’s
inevitable
mother
bitch.
she is a cunt and she
lives in your mouth.
she explodes all
of your skin, she
spits grease in
your nose.
i am tired of her
and i have told her to
leave.
i will not let her make
me fuck her.
i will not let her
make you unhappy
my love
i love you and
death wants to
make me hate
you because
she is real and
we are not.
i am not death
and i want to
punch it, it is
before me and
i am cornered in
time.
11/25/2011 at 2:58 am · Filed under poems
.
.
flowers mean nothing.
but i love
the roses.
the body as
a temple
bores me.
a world of ideas is a circulating
myth. fukuyama does not live in
new york city.
it is thursday,
the end of history.
.
think deeply
for a moment
about every-
thing.
not “a” thing,
not “anything”-
but the thingness
of the word, “every
thing” or what it
could possibly
never even begin
to encompass.
you are sitting in
the middle
of
everything.
nothing is sadder
than everything.
“sadness” can
not be applied
fluently to any other
substance, the thin
layers of film and
photographs, objects
destroyed, houses
are sold, paper disintegrates
and
growing old
is
a
bitch.
nothing is sadder
than everything
is a statement
true in two ways
easy.
“nothing” is indeed, sadder
than everything , because
without life
sadness is every anything, the faint
idea of missing something
that you never had to begin
with.
the other thing you have to remember
is that you will spend a great deal of time
watching everything living
slowly die.
Other people wear their heads with an easy and absolute existence, moving seamlessly through their life adapting to any given situation. Boss figures or questionable characters are heads on a ladder of impossible income. Casual conversations are an immediate exchange of affable observations. My head is a bending sled of bricks with two fuzzy openings. Death in life is a topic from great expectations. My feet are the theme of this moment. I extract longing from my mental vocabulary.
there is nothing to refer to
other than the physical fact regarding
”what exactly is going on right now”.
Besides this
I can call the spirit
box
or
dog
and you can think
in time or hope
but all we have is
this body part.
reality is a bag of bones with brittle creases.
you have to plan for your death. you have to
clean up your mess. jesus died for these keds.
you have to wear them to bed.
10/16/2011 at 12:23 am · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
i didn’t want to leave
when i
knew you
were still
awake
i didn’t
want to move
but my body
made me
walk.
one of my eyes is the
tiniest bit bigger than the other, but
i am apparently the only person
who notices.
i didn’t want to leave but the
doctors pulled me out, tucked
me in and said goodnight.
i never thought
i would do anything other
than think
i didn’t want to leave
when you
were
asleep.
everything that happened
on the day that I was born
is a ghost
that i play
when i hide
under the
sheets.
none of it
has
any
shape
other than
my
size.
i did not
want to
learn
how to speak.
i did not want to
ruin
my birthday.
a mind was
never black
or white, a
kiss is a
circle of
eyes
or blur.
i did not
want to leave
when i was
awake.
i did
not want
to leave
when i was
asleep.
05/03/2013 at 6:19 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
It should be
Free of
Pain
take control
of time
Personalize
the state
of
Art
assisting
living
and
caring for
the end
of life
04/30/2013 at 11:21 pm · Filed under poems and tagged: poetry
How unfortunate
That
After you see
the rat
Nothing much happens
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