Sunday, June 28, 2009

raging lamb













with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own
___bodies good to eat a thousand years.

______Howl, Allen Ginsberg











cell phone pocket portraits, Jim Joe
courtesy tiny vices



- the bookends of our too-few-flowered days
- another problematic story with no start. Just beginning in the middle with you brushing your teeth, behind a steering wheel, hungry on ____your couch with no reason why
- the too-distant memories of the tea that still tastes the same
- i cannot tolerate being cast
- she asks cash or credit? and i clench my jaw tight it is soo hard to speak sometimes
- i have not known the best minds of my generation. I have done nothing of that sort.
- Concentrate on the headlights. the low-fi grey and the white line. anywhere it leads that spells _f_a_r_ will do.
- f*ck you i am attached to connection,
____and the gaps between people is murdering me (murder to me) (murdered me)
- have sullen-faced faked a laughing noise. (till my head comes off
- and i'd jump from the 2nd floor balcony only enough so the pain has icing on it. the delicious tang of masochism in the cathedral
- the concepts i struggle with cripple me. i am no man i know.
- dear god: i'm going to leave you. Here's my ring. I'll take my chances with annihilation to your barren scrag of a life. Sign the papers, I've ____called the cab already. Remember to eat right.
- once upon a time we were all soo beautiful. Remember when I told you I'd put a big red-bow on the world and give it to you?
- if by way of fire-ritual, catharsis or a bottle of crack.rum.novacaine you can exorcise me, please, i beg you with the smell of someone who is ____soo close to death their shadow hugs them,

______(how strange the sound
______how strange the sound)

- here; sip the water.
- untouched i merge with tables and bleed ink.
- it is too cold to be out here.
- i stare as she smokes [how far i am]
- of everyone i could have become... this?
- my body makes a mess. dust is dead skin, my floor is a mist of it. and fallen hair. tissues of snot and semen. half-moon nails. saliva around ____my mouth. i am slowly coming apart. gravity has abandoned me. (or i it)
- i cannot reconcile myself to that darkness again.
- someone with a mouthful of seritonin please tongue-kiss me (or spit it in my face- i'll take what i can)
- my skin is yellow. patchy. aged. my pictures are soo far away. (there is a world with a red bow. where is the bow?, help me look)
- seriously though, how boring is this conversation?
____she stares at me.
____everyday we talk about it. __i'm bored.
____you're bored? we're trying to help you fix this!
____a decade long i've needed a fix no god or mechanic could give me.
- your love would have been safe with me.
- this moon is soo unreal. have you always wore that look?
- a few more of these days i will be more robot than man.
- the carousel.
- of course there is no reason for any of it. (and another leaf falls)
- in the other room i hear a voice but it is not speaking to me.

______(how strange the sound)

2 comments:

john said...

I dunno what it is but theres just something beautiful about the way of your words. 'the delicous tang of masochism in the cathedral' or 'remember to eat right'. okay the second one just made me laugh although not knowing the seriousness of the situation that could be quite offensive. now im just rambling...

a penny for the old guy said...

it's always ok to laugh. i laughed when i wrote it. (and thanks