pt.1 a thin man all bone
I had a little puppy
His name was Tiny Tim
I threw him in a bucket
To see if he could swim.
He drank up all the water
He ate a bar of soap
Now he's foaming in a panic
Like a mother-fucking dope!
I called him in the doctor
I called him in the nurse
I called him in the lady with the alligator purse.
I did it with the doctor
I did it with the nurse
I did it with that lady and her alligator purse!
pt.2 the sun in her eyes
over the mountains
and the shadows of buildings
against the sky
you can still see light
where the sun used to be
as clouds turn red then black
like a bruise
like your eye after the mosh pit
like my thumb after the catch-gear
Then the mountains disappear
and there's nothing left to live for
and we all die for the night
just like that.
pt.3 play dead
come closer child
he whispered sweet
as I felt his hand caress my back
his breath was warm
his hands were too
and I kissed the gentle part of his neck
said I loved him
and forever
and all the other words that came
he told me about the sea
and the river styx
and the serpent king
and other tales
I told him about over there
and under the rock
and thursday evening
and things
We walked along the cliff-edge
and flew a kite over the ocean
and held hands against the wind
and he played the traveling doctor
and I played the traveling dead
pt.4 when in rome
things that bounce (a list):
small blue rubber elephants
larger rubber bats
oysters if you eat them wrong
snails if you dare
rice thats spoiled
eggs, once boiled
sisters thrown
lawn, once mown
swings and rings and party hats
rocks on water
socks for jumping
stocks last friday
box today
hello little box
hello to you too, me
let's be friends!
pt.5 crazy eight
sink like a stone
rock like a rollercoaster
pt.6 water at dawn
the light through the curtains
reveals your chest
hairy and wet with dew.
I lick it clean
and you make breakfast
scrambled
with toast
but I've fallen back asleep
like I do
and you carry me to bed
tuck me in good night
and sing a little song
then close the door behind
and take the light out with you
This goes on for weeks at a time
or maybe months
or years
time escapes
when I close my eyes
and see the future in
colors brighter than life:
the endless parades
- in my honor, of course
with horse-drawn carts
and ferrets in trees
and you there beside me
with dew on your breast
so tall as you stand
all naked and bone-sharp
but one elbow round
from falling on ice
how many years
before I was born.
Your forever is too short for me.
I'll never wake up.
pt.7 skipping rope
fuck me once
shame on you
fuck me again and again and again!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
potential music assignment #1
Can you write music based on the physics of falling?
Can you write music that contradicts itself and dies three different ways?
Can you write music that contradicts itself and dies three different ways?
Monday, March 21, 2011
athena drops a mountain
pt.1 el gato
As the fever begins to thicken
around my mental orbs
I notice the empty blue
where clouds once floated free
while large boats formed on the horizon
The fog has rolled in
from the deeper recesses of my Amygdala
and Lower Cerebellum where
- once hand-stands now crunches -
I hone my cerebral dexterity
I'm not feeling well
but the gentle lapping of waves
on the stone beach
keeps tempo with the flow of oxygen
as it abandons my heart
I'm offered massaging
and gentle caress
to soothe what's gone ailing
and soften the rest
by the man of this place
the host by my side
an ex-pat and sheep-heard
and traveling guide
Let me list for you my pains
before we press on:
first and fore the frontal cortex
or thereabouts
followed in rough order
by heel and thigh
my lower half spine
and upper right calf
my thumb bone and thenar
and the balls of my toes
my focus is pulled
with every small throbbing
and no one remains to mind my surroundings
nor objects nor actions
nor the meanings they bear
nor the mountain that's forming
beneath where I sit
nor the glorious wreck
of knit, twist and purl
with widening gauge and wandering gate
that spills from my needles
in quickening knots
I don't remember what you were saying
but your hands were finding deep secrets of mine
long crevices formed between muscle and skin
by the long-form erosion of eternal progression
Who are you, again?
and what's that sharp tingling
and why is my back all twisted and bent
and where are your fingers
are where are my robes
and who's feet are marching
and when is my grave
and water's for drinking
and mountains to climb
and toothpicks for killings
and poems that don't rhyme
and this is a sad song
and so are your eyes
and where are my nerve ends
and why am I fighting
and where are your eyes
and so on
and so on
and so
on and on
pt.2 one eyed jack and the serpent bone
you rip drip right through me
and the ground is wet with your cum
pt.3 there and back again
In retrospect
I'm not sure why I brought the mountain
when packing my things
It was there and I left in a hurry
a bit of a daze
and some might even say
a panic of sorts
I left without announcement
the next day
or three days after
My exit was calm
my visage collected
a game that I play
with trenchcoat and hat
the fog and the ocean
and the smell of your sweat
that lingered in my room
long after you left
made it hard to count
the minutes as they passed
there was so much to do
without moving
or letting the covers shift
to reveal any inch of my body
as I slowly reassembled
the parts that I could
from the scraps I found scattered
around corners of my psyche
and discarded memories
I left with this mountain
and myself
(all knee and ankle bone)
and a few things I would need for the journey
my toothbrush but not much else
pt.4 notes towards a manifesto
With a knife
or with needles
with spiders and salt
with cozy warm mittened full uzi assault
with a pine cone and sulfer
with glitter and mint
with a glancing right hook
and a wink in my eye
with a night in the bathtub
with my favorite book
with candles
with ice cream
with wandering thoughts
with canvas and yarn
and two-ply wool socks
We'll suffer alone
and one day you'll die
and I'll die too
and that's all I ask
on that day I'll be happy
and celebrate with friends
as we board your final ferry
with pickaxe in hand
and lay waste
even
to mortality
you shit.
p5. exfoliate
This Is Just To Say
I have left the mountain
two fathoms out and one deep
Forgive me
It was heavy
As the fever begins to thicken
around my mental orbs
I notice the empty blue
where clouds once floated free
while large boats formed on the horizon
The fog has rolled in
from the deeper recesses of my Amygdala
and Lower Cerebellum where
- once hand-stands now crunches -
I hone my cerebral dexterity
I'm not feeling well
but the gentle lapping of waves
on the stone beach
keeps tempo with the flow of oxygen
as it abandons my heart
I'm offered massaging
and gentle caress
to soothe what's gone ailing
and soften the rest
by the man of this place
the host by my side
an ex-pat and sheep-heard
and traveling guide
Let me list for you my pains
before we press on:
first and fore the frontal cortex
or thereabouts
followed in rough order
by heel and thigh
my lower half spine
and upper right calf
my thumb bone and thenar
and the balls of my toes
my focus is pulled
with every small throbbing
and no one remains to mind my surroundings
nor objects nor actions
nor the meanings they bear
nor the mountain that's forming
beneath where I sit
nor the glorious wreck
of knit, twist and purl
with widening gauge and wandering gate
that spills from my needles
in quickening knots
I don't remember what you were saying
but your hands were finding deep secrets of mine
long crevices formed between muscle and skin
by the long-form erosion of eternal progression
Who are you, again?
and what's that sharp tingling
and why is my back all twisted and bent
and where are your fingers
are where are my robes
and who's feet are marching
and when is my grave
and water's for drinking
and mountains to climb
and toothpicks for killings
and poems that don't rhyme
and this is a sad song
and so are your eyes
and where are my nerve ends
and why am I fighting
and where are your eyes
and so on
and so on
and so
on and on
pt.2 one eyed jack and the serpent bone
you rip drip right through me
and the ground is wet with your cum
pt.3 there and back again
In retrospect
I'm not sure why I brought the mountain
when packing my things
It was there and I left in a hurry
a bit of a daze
and some might even say
a panic of sorts
I left without announcement
the next day
or three days after
My exit was calm
my visage collected
a game that I play
with trenchcoat and hat
the fog and the ocean
and the smell of your sweat
that lingered in my room
long after you left
made it hard to count
the minutes as they passed
there was so much to do
without moving
or letting the covers shift
to reveal any inch of my body
as I slowly reassembled
the parts that I could
from the scraps I found scattered
around corners of my psyche
and discarded memories
I left with this mountain
and myself
(all knee and ankle bone)
and a few things I would need for the journey
my toothbrush but not much else
pt.4 notes towards a manifesto
With a knife
or with needles
with spiders and salt
with cozy warm mittened full uzi assault
with a pine cone and sulfer
with glitter and mint
with a glancing right hook
and a wink in my eye
with a night in the bathtub
with my favorite book
with candles
with ice cream
with wandering thoughts
with canvas and yarn
and two-ply wool socks
We'll suffer alone
and one day you'll die
and I'll die too
and that's all I ask
on that day I'll be happy
and celebrate with friends
as we board your final ferry
with pickaxe in hand
and lay waste
even
to mortality
you shit.
p5. exfoliate
This Is Just To Say
I have left the mountain
two fathoms out and one deep
Forgive me
It was heavy
Saturday, March 19, 2011
how to hate your virgin sister
pt.1: with a knife
as you're falling
turn back
reach
and grab her hair
like so
pt.2: in silence
Out the back door
the field grass drops slowly away
towards the woods
where we spent
our first night
holding hands
and breathing heavy
several feet away
in the school yard
later
you touched my face
and I could smell your perfume
moving closer
you placed my hand to your breast
and we left it there for a minute
just to see what would happen
pt.3: with pith
fearful people
do stupid things
and
it is better to have loved and lost
than to live with a waco
for the rest of your life
pt.4: apropos of nothing
I have dreams of falling
from buildings
from bridges and catwalks
hospitals and military barracks
and turning gently over myself
till I find a perfect balance
the shape of an object
affects the rate of it's fall
and when I land
you were there first
turned to stone
and I impale myself
like a martyr
on your sword
or javeline
or penchant for older men
I see blood on your gown, sister.
I see blood.
pt.5: vengeance
the lord our gods
is seven and one half
lords
and of many shifts
a thief and cattle driver
blandly cunning
he moves towards the gate
a bringer of dreams
and watcher by night
a wandering god
wonderful deathless and frail
I see veins in his neck like any other
I'll be a guide for this guide
I bring notice to this messenger
I'll bury him imortal
tear his cloths and scatter his ash
the innocent of man
I hear a gentle whisper
as my shepherd nears his sheering
come closer child come close
come closer child
come close
as you're falling
turn back
reach
and grab her hair
like so
pt.2: in silence
Out the back door
the field grass drops slowly away
towards the woods
where we spent
our first night
holding hands
and breathing heavy
several feet away
in the school yard
later
you touched my face
and I could smell your perfume
moving closer
you placed my hand to your breast
and we left it there for a minute
just to see what would happen
pt.3: with pith
fearful people
do stupid things
and
it is better to have loved and lost
than to live with a waco
for the rest of your life
pt.4: apropos of nothing
I have dreams of falling
from buildings
from bridges and catwalks
hospitals and military barracks
and turning gently over myself
till I find a perfect balance
the shape of an object
affects the rate of it's fall
and when I land
you were there first
turned to stone
and I impale myself
like a martyr
on your sword
or javeline
or penchant for older men
I see blood on your gown, sister.
I see blood.
pt.5: vengeance
the lord our gods
is seven and one half
lords
and of many shifts
a thief and cattle driver
blandly cunning
he moves towards the gate
a bringer of dreams
and watcher by night
a wandering god
wonderful deathless and frail
I see veins in his neck like any other
I'll be a guide for this guide
I bring notice to this messenger
I'll bury him imortal
tear his cloths and scatter his ash
the innocent of man
I hear a gentle whisper
as my shepherd nears his sheering
come closer child come close
come closer child
come close
Friday, March 4, 2011
randomness
* hero/villain/hero who elicits pity and fear. i love the ambiguity. i love the idea of playing up the ambiguity. to the extreme. i've been watching The Wire (again...). the ambiguity towards the characters is so confusing and uncomfortable and i love it so so much. like ziggy sobotka for example... to me, he is a great example of pity and fear both, at the same time, he's fucked, but its not his fault, but he has killed a man, but its a Bad Man, but its not his fault, but of course its his fault, but it didn't have to go this way, but it DID go this way, but he seems like an okay dude, but he is a Murderer, but he is Sorry and doesn't belong in prison, but he KILLS PEOPLE. i love that this character makes me so confused. this sort of thing is what i see our hero/villain/hero doing.
* also this related to my earlier comment about being thrown. this can be very ambiguous. a Bad Person being thrown is a good thing, but he/she will bleed a lot and break bones, which is unpleasant. unless she is turned to stone first, in which case, she will Destroy whatever she lands on (i hope its not me). but she deserves it, or does she? she will fly (which is beautiful), she will land hard (which is destructive), and she will come to rest (which is peaceful). if she is stone, maybe she will be immortalized there forever. like a monument. but do we want to remember her? do we?
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