ordinary

20140322-225428.jpg

The world does not amaze you
In and of itself. The product is too
distracting, expensive- obviously
Pink and bored in the backseat.
I am not “Your Personal Caravan”- nor drama, cellphone, or meal- all of
Us were educated, ignorant and hungry, all of us wear shoes, attend beaches. Are you unprepared, perhaps, for the duration, it’s excessive and well acknowledged limitations? Dry martini, perfect lighting? Disgust me in a beautiful setting, a chunk of eyelashes in a nice cube, ravioli all over your chair.

Writing is illness, the brains erratic symptomatic pattern vomit- speech, think, process- but all of it comes from the spine, all of it comes from log cabins, violence, sex and newspaper. I lay here like an angry student, adult and neutered column of tissue. How dare you survive.

burrow

20140318-001016.jpg
Skin rolls like protons,
Take out your useful tools.

I am filled with a mild
Amount of overwhelming
and Compelling love, but

Why does my head keep
Hanging itself?

Tea, or the pink sponge
and floor castle sedate me.
I radio with you, hallucinate
Oil. Hung towels excuse the shattering, my arms are so
So sad today. Remember
everything?

Idiot head exists, can’t keep
it washed enough. neck speaks
Intentional thoughts which is
Disappointing to my mouth.
Get rid of the dreck, that news
Paper mania, sitting on the bed
shivering.

judith butler colon tuba

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I do not want
to be a cowboy
But I want the gear.
that was horrible,
writing without a
Sense, and I won’t
Make a pop up for
the sake of it.

You and me Will
Talk, okay? I will
say unique and random,
Non-responsive, detailed and
Parallel pieces of conversation.
I swear, I will wear myself,
Not this sombrero, which
Makes me feel muscular enough
To find your head.

building a life

20140312-162839.jpg

Trauma is
the story never plays
We’d play that film but
certain parts wouldn’t play
Waiting for the whole story to be told
certain parts are cut out.

The image of digging into
myself like the way I feel-
a huge vat is formed in
the cavity that we caress and
smooth into swollen
cities.

The large empty hollow
blown out embellished center
becomes memory warped
with trauma:

the intimate and exact experience
of drawing something horrid.
Psychologically khakied with
A mailbox and a maid.

How will I remember this past experience?
No origin outside itself,
Sui generes, a morning
Gutted.

video feeding

mutator-design

bleed the web,
a towel of sweat: how
many silent web sites
can I sit through?

My eyes are fucked up
by this hum and focus,
boulder drawn out paper,
scissor.  famous things you
should know like: museums,
inventors, brands and designers.

fake flowers aren’t fun to touch
and I have never eaten a fish
wrapped in newspaper.

generic vocabularies and a system
of selection;  a coat, this fine
lavish screen.  And locate this
in time.

reboot

20140228-084947.jpg

I want to reboot
and reinstall Mac osX.
I should not have
fucked over the
Rockefellers.

Restart and
hold down “option”
There it is-
Recovery HD.

Magic hides technology-
Master of puppets the girl
sitting next to me.

Trauma is
The story that never plays
We’d play that film but
Certain parts wouldn’t
play.

Watch some random
movie on linear tv
how young do you
want to feel today?

bauble

20140221-152939.jpg

My teacher is not
Reproducing, but her fingers
are berries, shapes like air
sacs and roots. Hair was worn
literally, as a coveted substance,
Her metal rings are conscious
Delineations of the end of her protrusions. Forget nurturing breasts, replacing that with its
Opposite, the hollow echo hole
of literature, elocution.

When we were walking together
I invented an accident, tripping
suddenly on the smudgy
pavement. She had to scream
seriously, her arms very rigid. My fall
was not full, as my hands held me
Against the ground, and then she
inverted her scream, sucking the wind in my motion back up. Good bye, full eyes there, buried in
some ivory teeth. Thank god
she Is so hard, committed to
warmth.

endless more

20140221-011432.jpg
You have to be alive
to do something.
get your young neck
Bent, pulls the eyes
In- look up

You aren’t national
Geographic magazine-
You make the world out
Of rocks, all your stupid
time is dead and new.

My I was this earthworm
hurt cache, my left arm in
The door jammed, a novel
choking my apology. My
Heart hurt more than my
Head but I was always
Honest, like politics.

it is unfortunate that my
Moon made me disagree

With that simple thing
You said- I am so blown
Apart, I cannot meet any
One.

uncanny valley

20140211-003812.jpg

The magic of the child is
that the child is magic,
there is no word for
door.

To look at that is to know
you too are naming tired
futures, to remember the
envelope of birth and easy
Death.

A clever child tells you
a trick and the world becomes
Wrong again, adult, who wants
that? The inventive hand of craft
Cutting up the simple marsh.

I want rounded eye smashes
and tulips, no room for fancy
galoshes or parents. Tombs
are prettier than math and
the governor, I kiss you and
it is simple.

backgammon

20140209-212407.jpg

I am hurting more
Often than
Not

You can bite
into the apple
But I am sorry
I am amazing
thirst

He sells meat
directly to families
And then my
Skin hits my
Bone- the bone
says to the skin

shake me out, push the bone
through- but you made hats

?

Maintain this as this is the
way this is, but
we had found something
tangled
in the
Basement, I was
kicked in the
pants,
sorry, it was your
Name in cement

a field of something

20140109-162513.jpg

My thinking smoke is directly above
My right and left nostril.
The word loop feeds in a circle, a hazy chain of word chunks I see
Them stretch from ear to ear, one thought held and recycled.

Thinking is back and forwards
language comes through the parse And forced through the throat. Think
in one complete chain of cascades, layer and build and ramshackle spit
I said I say! I speak and then it
stops.

I am folding, my being arms are
Nested, wrapped in a tightly woven
red satin compartment.

I think and that is matter in me,
A fuzz of love or worry.

the easy cycle

20131101-004940.jpg

I don’t want to
Think about my insides
Feeling good for
one minute
Is a gift.

This man knows how to
handle this kind
of Situation
Perfectly.

thank god for
Groins, pits.
Toys have no
needs of their
own.

I want to know
How the news
Relates to me-

you have a
Site specific personality.
“I’m not crazy
Like in a crazy house
like in a movie.”

Everybody was talking
to me at once and
it all made
sense.
Like the low price
In your office under
your desk

I like fall autumn
winter the best

I like going inside
to survive.

The very generic notion of survival

20131012-012402.jpg

My strategy for acquiring the personality required full immersion, both ontologically and shamefully.

You have been
diagnosed as
Phallic.

This child sent
A body.
It ended up
building.

What a body
You have built
someone said to
The baby

What a vessel
What are you going
to make it say?

People perceive in compositions
They don’t perceive in individual trees

That’s the jelly
Roof. Goodbye

super naked automatic

 

 

fuji_3d_lenticular_500x

 

In films you
do not fight

ceilings.

a comic about
infinity was read
to me, the text
was

original

but we ran

into
trouble.

i’ll let you observe
there is nothing

wrong.

there
is

nothing
on
my
pants.

this isn’t a free
for all

this is a

board
meeting.

commit to the theater
develop the character

learn baby
learn
welcome to the world
of the poor.

 

 

mammal

20130907-172519.jpg

Words have meaning
but I
don’t.

Smiley faced people
push you to talk.
Are you living in
Backwards
and forwards
At the same time?

Both times? Older and
younger, disappear
Together. Where was
your Death born my dear? I
Forget, a lonely mirror.

You cannot
Hear
the violins
But they
are
every
where.

physical archive

Living room sofa
Living room coffee table
Dining room china hutch
Dining room table
One twin bed set
One Early American 60 inch bureau (from back bedroom)
Various small tables
Matching bureau, chest of drawers and mirror from moms bedroom
Tv stand from moms bedroom
Formica table from porch
Early american sofa from porch
Odd chairs
Glider chair w/matching foot stool from porch

More to follow

list of don’ts

20130824-114137.jpg

If you see something
Fall out of my body

Give me the money.

A story is only
one thing
following
another

And you stand
at the center

If no one is there
There is a suitcase
that is always open.

My Buddha carries my teeth
A tooth, a single shard rather
Let’s keep my spirit up
I said-

romantic virtues
are bad ideas
I don’t think that
But people say
I should

My flowers just don’t
seem to want to
grow

Life doesn’t look
like that-
That’s art.

Scientists also reveal
Sky blue
water
wet.

There is a nobel
prize for sale
if
You want to
buy it

The world
was all before
me
It’s called dust
Leave it alone

It has to be
a story
A story is only
one thing
following
another

solitary Reading

hang

I think my skin is
danger
Ribs were born
all torn

With a growl, I remove
the Real

Leave my body alone
leave the doctor
alone
He’s busy.

My divorce is my parents,
my hand in their pockets.
I ate the vagina and
killed
the father.

If you were fed
through a tube
You wouldn’t have to
wash your Hands.

You are so
Smart. Why, then
do you love
Yourself?

deep muscle

20130811-141359.jpg20130811-141347.jpg

I’m naked but listen
There is nothing wrong with
the Vagina.

The body is something we
all have inside of us.

Print me out a copy
of my wound.

This is where I
Come from, this is
my sexual butter.

Oh lord please forgive me
Foolish flesh, a gorgeous
little baby, coochie coochie
Coo.

The tender special is
in the corner

They took my head and
Twisted it
away from
the surgical area

Like a wrestler,
A head locked lover.

Passing anger
is beautiful
before and after.
But not during

It is all a fragile canal
If you don’t have to
cut through a Thousand levels
why would you?

I would give anything
to take
a shower, I am
Filthy.

They had me twisted-
They are staples not stitches
If you drop something
Don’t bother picking it up.

art about the end of the world
is ignorant
but not original.

pitch black void pep talk

photo

If a ball was
thrown

I’d be the one
who would
Run away

This is about how the world
never changes.

And this is about how it
always does

I have been visiting hours-
the silence and the stars.
The screen is a screen-
this we cannot barter.

we will still do the talking
but i can do it by myself

I can do it by myself
I do not need
your help

My inside and outside
are racial and fostered

Adopted by authority
rented out for food.

Unwanted, but given
A stipend- I was told to
sit and be silent.

I hope everyone here
is a
Person.

I can’t tell
by myself.

moldy rapture

20130801-233115.jpg

Stop mapping fiction
kiss me and break
Pattern

Her separated thought
It makes its own kind of sense

Fake based reality:
I live in my face
whether you like it or not.

Borrow a bull-
you look like you
need it.

Yes
the way he managed his
Money.
Yes
after his death.

And clung to it
His teeth set

a caption for
an illustration

What do you do
When you loose
A needle?

Visit a Health Store.

a bucket
of
crazy
buttons.

borrowed cows

20130731-075550.jpg

Good morning little god
Take your time
pray and shit.

Would you believe me
even if you think
i am lying?
since I’m telling
the truth?

My flowers are blooming
And they bloomed again
this Year.

The endless picture
of the green bedroom
was borrowed this
Summer.

A financial disaster
has seven coats of
Wallpaper. Original
children were
passed through
the window.

Outside, the house
was unusual.
A future art was
Perfect, transformed
from grass to
Stone.

Traffic damage is
a sensitive topic. An
Unfinished self-portrait
is next to the bed.

You are an anonymous
still life, I am earthenware-
a fire in the country,
Mother and child.

“I don’t know how to
Thank you, but I hope i
can do the same for
You some
time”

In the beginning,
I prayed. Later,
We had dinner.

The Inculcation of Shirley Temple

20130726-120917.jpg

Align yourself with
abundance.
employ Advanced
night repair

flip me a typology
of childhood gesture
I saw your arm in
The dark.

We were all thrown
Like nets, held at bay-
all collapsing forms
squiggles of light.

(Males are supposed
to groom
well)

The words
didn’t match
the world
Though

The world is no better
or worse for what you
Are.
sometimes I find
Myself

I could take a picture of the moon
to show you
but
you are
the moon

Today
is the first
day of
the rest

cosmic fuck

20130725-101704.jpg

It did not become him-
doing such a dirty thing
On television.

Both legs
have to Go.

I’m too
Intergalactic
For you, lady- you
play chess and I
play god.

You think that wood is
Flat-
I think
it is cosmic
Root Butter.

I wore rib juice for
Eye storms and ate
Chocolates all
Day, delicious.

Tore my ear around
the hemisphere, glued
Toes to the galaxy

I got star channel
On instant play,
Auto dial Eros
from the pool
Phone bitch.

My meditation room
Is remote controlled
to flatten my karma

It’s really just a generational
Thing, honey

You believe time

I don’t.

Full Time Human Being

20130723-174731.jpg

me is way back
Then

imagining
This.

I am object
Operated by
me
hiding

Don’t try
to fix it
you can’t fix it
Bless your
heart

Once it is established
that the separation
is voluntary, the local office
must determine
the circumstances

Welcome to
The Simple Creature.

A sperm spring
i Kiss you
I don’t have to
see the inside
to Know
It is alright

Involuntary memory
I always take seriously
I can’t text with grassy hands
I’m in the middle
of my medicine

My text is fragile

it has imaginary
Value

These buttons don’t belong
To these pants.

digital archive 2011-2013

photo copy

From now through October 5th, I have a installation on view at Newark Penn Station in partnership with Solo(s) Project House, “Digital Archive 2011-2013″. If you would like to take a look, when you arrive at Newark Penn Station, an escalator around the edge will lead you upstairs, whereby you will follow a winding corridor past a gym and up another escalator, down a hallway, through a mini mall, across a bridge, where, suddenly, you will see a window display filled with multi-colored silk threads taped to the wall- to the right of this display is a glass door- once you pass through the glass door, you will be in a small hallway filled with soft red light and the words “Newyork” lit up on your right. Once you are in this hallway, open the door with the black leather sign, walk inside and then close the door. There you will find a miniature model of manhattan made out of aluminum foil, soda cans, and christmas lights. Sit down on the shiny bench or the small leather ottoman and you can watch the past two years of my life in 10 minutes. Do not touch the electric roses.

13252_10152083694444478_1360827718_n-1“Digital Archive, 2011-2013″
Digital Video, 9 minutes on endless loop, 30,000 + photographs

Installation:
aluminum foil
aluminum cans
lamps
afghans
1920’s stereo
bamboo
Christmas lights
scraps of black leather
4 bad paintings
a white dress shirt
a guide to New York.

Show:

THE GATEWAY PROJECT
JULY 17 – OCT 5

OPEN TO THE PUBLIC
TUES – THURS
11 AM – 7 PM

OPENING RECEPTION
JULY 17th, 5PM – 7PM

TWO GATEWAY CENTER
283-299 MARKET ST.
NEWARK, NJ 07102

PRESS RELEASE

floss cards

frag

This is a tight

System.

It teaches you
to go to bed

When you are
thirsty

My room is
Hell and perfect
for hiding

I have a number
for the program

I have a posture
I prefer

The window vacations
have a newspaper boy
To wash their hair

I have horticulture and
Rice
And I
have

Been waiting
for

You.

acting lessons

20130703-172732.jpg

We decide
what’s new.

Not you.

There is no
single thing possible
that you could call responsible
For destroying human
Relationships

When i do not like
something

i try to forget it
i do not
remember things
i do not like

In my life
i hide them

i accumulate
Everything that
Happens
i am a storage unit
an archive of
Tears

i am
Pretty little pill boxes
All wet, lying on the floor
wWe are
a Power-less couple
Never touch the
principal

(ashes)
now you have me
Thinking about
Ashes.

Do you want to rise
From these fucking
Ashes?

Do you think you can wear
History like a diamond?
I can eat your
Fingers
First.

How did you build an
Entire
Jungle out of
Ashes?

nothing is worse

than a
dead mans
penis.

girly mitts

20130626-030656.jpgThe show will open
after your
Funeral.

The container we will store
You in is private and tender

It is vital to note that
All documents
will be burned
All words turned over
for forgetting

We will retain the
copyright on your
Face for future
promotional purposes

Your body will be
divided up amongst
stockholders.

I have personally rented
A beautiful tuxedo

Everyone is going to
be there

gut fiesta

image-of-Uranias-Mirror-card_Draco-and-Ursa-Minor-533x250-1

eyes don’t get old
Stuff around them
does

they could lead
into
other

things

Art comes from
the Survival
Mode- eat, fuck, eat.

It’s just arranged
differently

I have fantastic anger
and abstract Ebonics

I have layers of tongues
and pelvis, simpler and
Pleasant.

I am torrential pother,
A slut for disaster.

Watch the building
Eat itself.
watch a Door
as a
Window.

I slaughter houses in jest
Damaging the imagination,
Plucking the gut.

I’ve learned how to talk to people like Person
Don’t sexualize the table, darling
People are in public.

old lady nobody

Screen Shot 2013-03-17 at 2.32.51 PMScreen Shot 2013-06-22 at 8.16.59 PM

I knew you were
keeping your
fire breath
in check

I thank
you for
That

The Record
Is Exact

My cards are
Close to my chest
I am fumes, a ghost
in your head

I left my eyes
in a box in
A drawer
behind your
Wedding Dress

I will watch you
Cry all of the
Time in your
Bed.

Lets dismiss
This myth

It wouldn’t be an
Entrance without
An exit.

instructive speech

20130619-023358.jpg

It wouldn’t be in his best interest to poison the dog.

keep your voices
down

keep your hands
to yourself

Eventually
we have
to deal with
Real
Space

Whether
We like to or
Not

I am an active money manager
Who battles the
Market

I want to be breaking down
Sobbing screaming

Horrible things happen
in New York City.

A certain amount of tension is inevitable

The audio function automatically
Overrides multiple streams

Man
was
in
the
forest

Short little hairy people
run the world

You have money
You can look at the beautiful party
You get friendly
You never reveal anything
about your identity

A logical nag
My secret queer code
Look how nice your little
Hairs look

Did you ever
hear of a
Railroad in hell?

no.

200 dpi

r-EXPLODING-WEATHERBALLOONTAMPA-large570

welcome to
Fucking magic
Town

Hold your eyes
I’m eating life.

Blow this book
Down your
Throat

something intense
is running down
my back

I am lending you
beauty eggs

Eat them.

I would love
To meet
You

silly

you

are the most

ridiculous
being i have

ever

seen

 

dude he needs
to bliss

the fuck

out

I would
Love
to

newstory

20130604-203114.jpg

Tommy’s belly
is a beautiful
symbol
of Art
working.

Derek came
to see
me so I
could see
my self

I
looked
great.

David is still dying but
at least
Jack is
still
flaming.

If you see Andy tell
him I’m hungry
and he never
calls

Tell Peter that
Paul is popular
and still very
sexy

I refuse to
mention
RR & JJ cuz
they snubbed
me

either
way

I miss
them

all

(and I
almost
missed
you)

How to tell the future apart from broken glass

Screen Shot 2013-06-02 at 10.16.09 PM

 

I came from a very particular
Slow past. A place with parents
no nightingales
And Nothing in my
Blood

I learned how to wear
painful shoes
To produce a
Picture
Experience
warmth like
never before

this is a result
of ancient notions
regarding what
sparkle is

why do you
make
the beauty
stop?

the slow withdrawal of learning
the picture disappears

you are not looking at the picture
you are looking at the
world

posit this cerebral space
where all you will be able to
do is
wait

this place i outline
is shape and slow
and i am head that
is all

and you could
fall down the
stairs

into a
basket

get out of my magic head,
go organize the forest
or eat

i wish we
were neighbors
so you could
water my flowers.

.sticky h2 a:hover {float:left;

f13c_turret_blind_box_open

these clothes are
new
and recently
cleaned

i bought these
fibers at
the air conditioned
store and put them
into a brand new
plastic bag

i opened soap and washed
them and then folded them
and then
put them
into the
drawer

now when you put on these
clothes you will feel clean
these clothes will make you feel
new

then you can stand
in the kitchen
and eat cheese
and laugh
and the tiled floor
is easy to repair

and the front door of the house
is heavy and the tree is good
for shade
and the back yard is clean
and the street is recently
paved
and you feel clean
and you feel new

you just have no idea how clean we all feel

live genre

.

20130518-221831.jpg

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.

making a living (being)

1-s2.0-S1094695010001228-gr2

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

clever discs

20130507-230808.jpg20130507-230834.jpg

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.

little skin

7044889zoomed
(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

space age skull caps

A8P5zwARZUVh28Xgmw-6sw_m

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.

urge alarms

AvicennaJMed_2011_1_1_18_83719_f6
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

the impossible pond

20130424-175712.jpg
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

neuropathy

007f

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

dirt machine

04/17/2013 at 5:36 pm · Filed under poems and tagged:

20130417-183552.jpg

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.

mattachine

04/16/2013 at 10:22 pm · Filed under poems and tagged:

20130416-232247.jpg

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.

For immediate release

04/12/2013 at 12:40 pm · Filed under poems and tagged:

20130412-133900.jpg
Go fuck yourself
In a white
Room
Alone

the bad real

04/11/2013 at 10:13 pm · Filed under poems and tagged:

212 lid transparent
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.

the spirit of that shit

04/07/2013 at 3:31 pm · Filed under poems

danielreich_readingindust

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.

Nail in the Coffin

03/09/2013 at 5:56 pm · Filed under poems and tagged:

The-Mosquito

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.

trauma

03/02/2014 at 12:36 am · Filed under poems

the last 6 months

August

mother had her shoulder removed, was bedridden while grandmother had to be moved out of her house, into mothers home.

father has moved back into house for first time in my life, all family living together- re-experience divorce as mother throws father out in a fit of rage, grandmother had just moved in, grandmothers house is solely emptied by me.

Pack all of the things she can’t keep for trip to Pittsburgh, to save my grandmothers things and to make art with them.

The night before I move, all belongings are in brothers truck, he told me he would drive with me but at the last minute backed out.

I say I’m taking this fucking ottoman no matter what, I end up on the ground, on rocks

My brother straddles me, knees against my chest, strangles me hands around my throat. My back is cut up and torn by the rocks. He lets me go when I tell him it reminds me of rape.

I return home, mother with no shoulder vomits after hearing story.

The next morning I move to Pittsburgh.

September

When I arrive my roommate moves out. After declining to help me move my things in, there is too much stuff, he can’t handle it, thinks I’m a hoarder.

First day of classes for a masters, meet with advisor who actually is an employer who thinks I’m getting paid for something I’m borrowing thousands of dollars for. During meeting roommate calls and breaks lease. One of five people in the three year program.

October-

Turn my house into a replica of my grandmothers house. Homeless friend stays with me but calls the police on me when I throw him out for going through my room. Broken leg in basement but I am paying 1,200 for rent and he’s broke and I am not a good friend.

Friend in the program helps out.
Talks about how the program is a shit show. Leaves program temporarily. Disparages teachers. I am saddened.

Current advisor cancels appointment, misses opening, misses presentation.

November

Peter Schedjahl is in my basement.

Teacher recommends I watch brokeback mountain.

Teacher threatens to leave class and blames me.

Meet with head, drop advisor, switch to head as advisor.

First meeting with advisor head, given disciplinary warning, teacher and employer claim I eavesdropped on office meeting, inaccurate claim. I break down in tears.

December

Semester is over.
I spent days with employer teacher meeting with academic lisaons, to try to patch things up, after receiving hostile messages undergoing verbal harassment.

This all cost 20,000.

January

Grandma moves out of house, into “retirement center”

I have daily cycles of strangulation fantasies that occur every time I imagine saying something.

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