In an apartment on 53rd street
A fire is burning
Out of a keyhole &
Into a cigarette.
Smoke comes in walls
& is heavier than rocks
& it takes an artist
To hate oneself.
Moon-faced Serbians sipped
Drain-O from sandals
While red-lipped nomads
Gazed & sharpened their blades.
A fat lady walks in &
Before she can say
“Burger & fries”
There are spears in her ears.
The body is dragged to the
River by sheepish failures, but
The boxer knew what was afoot &
Had removed all the water from the river.
But no-one cared because a riot had
Started in the streets
“Flay the feminazis,” they chanted
“Pour molten oil on the devout,” they screamed.
& all the flat-eyed artists
& all the drag-queen mobsters
Danced around the fire like evolution
& an ape got in the middle of it.
His fingertips calloused
His elbows like spears
His eyes w/ more blood
Than white.
Richard Nixon or
A Richard Nixon costume
Entered stage right w/
Boxing gloves & cocktails.
They would throw children
Across the fire
& artists on the other side would be
Waiting w/ nets & knives.
But then tear gas came
& they cried & their
Tears were like the eyes that
Glinted at them.
Out of a keyhole &
Into a cigarette.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 2:13 AM UTC
I want to scream-sing a lullaby to your eyes
So that they may sleep & that I may sleep
& I know that it may be more jarring
Than a simple anesthetic or tranquilizer
But I like to think that the slumber is
More genuine that way.
I want to scream-sing a lullaby to your eyes
So that they retreat into their sockets
& are shocked
& need to form a plan of action
With which to retaliate
But then hopefully they get bored & fall asleep.
I want to scream-sing a lullaby to your eyes
So that they might think that I’m a cool guy
& then maybe in a few weeks or in the summer
Sometime we can cook burgers & hotdogs
& eat them & chat about our families
& laugh at only the worst jokes.
I want to scream-sing a lullaby to your eyes
So that they get tired of me screaming
& I get tired of me singing
& we can all be tired together.
I want to scream-sing a lullaby to your eyes
Because eyes can’t hear things.
& I like doing things that don’t make sense.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 2:11 AM UTC
woodwork slings shot
over its shoulder
washes away its
sin and whatnot.
pride and a gift
he gets it in the
mailwise artery
the chute in his stomach.
it wasn’t what he
was waiting for
it’s a slimmer, a
looser sleep.
he’ll send it back,
with a card, it’ll say
“it wasn’t what I
was waiting for
it’s a looser, a
slimmer sleep.”
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 2:09 AM UTC
smoke comes up like a hammer
bing bam slams a man
twists his nose
turns, e looks for his friends
in the other room, but theyr far now
farther than the knife big
man machete got eyes like
dog in woods, got teeth like
dog in woods
he aint shittin nobody now
no he aint
clever ***** none here
whisperin whisperin
comin closer and
i nos i aint got the time so
big lunge i giv him
a big un
but a big
dog needs a
bigger lunge
so i grabsme figger
and takes off wif no sound
but a big
dog got a bigger nose
sniff farther, dig
deeper, and a rat in the sewer
gets chewed, gets mangled
gets is wittl teethums pulled out
FUCKEM FUCKEM FUCKEM
getde teeth getde credit cards
RIPEM RIPEM RIPEM
hoo amex this ***** got it
FUCKEM FUCKEM FUCKEM
rough, little yuppie ****
RIPEM RIPEM RIPEM
you think that *** is any good?
FUCKRIPS FUCKRIPS FUCKRIPS
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 2:08 AM UTC
Spigot wires, spun into
****** fires.
Arson gives him chills.
They deserved it, he knows,
He blows into the wind.
He saw their faces.
It’s rigamorole, it’s
standard joshing.
Nobody heard.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
Circular fleur de li,
Joins a man to a tree.
Steps on his knees,
Gives him disease.
Trigonometrony.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 2:06 AM UTC
He drinks it up, he drinks the
**** like it’s water.
There are faces, and files
and they change with the seasons.
The parking lot has never been this dim, but
who forgot to turn on the lights?
The friends who gave him trouble
now just give him help.
The scarred people seem little more than
pawns in a game, and he must play them, but
it’s not his choice.
The mirror’s like a caricature,
it provides more distance than closeness.
I wished he could’ve seen his son
being born, but.
Somebody slams the table, ****
something’s going on
We got him, men
we got him, we got him.
Oh wait, oh wait, egg on our face,
we got played, we got tricked
this man is just black.
“I want to prevail,” he says,
“I’m no loser,” he says.
He’s no quitter, but
he sure ****** it up.
The faces get twisted, now the
eyes look the same.
This won’t be the first time
and it won’t be the last.
He blames a lot on others,
but he knows that persistence
is infallible, like the pope.
Nobody really trusts him now, he’s a bit of
everything and everywhere.
Heart’s in the right place, but
where’s your heart?
He keeps downing the brown ****
keeps downing the liquids.
“One day I’ll get him,” he says.
“one day I’ll get the *******
At this point, he speaks for himself,
for himself. Nobody, no
one, nobody else.
At dinnertime, he says,
“sing me a song.”
Relax is defeat,
rest is charity, rest is
A deep moral compromise.
a loser needs a bed
A winner needs a mug.
he downs the ****
He downs the ****
god, he downs the ****
like it’s water.
OOGABOOGABOOGA
i’ve got him in my sights
He won’t see it coming
he’ll be shocked as the rest
A **** like that? no
he wouldn’t see a barn.
He didn’t say, didn’t see
his own mother, his mother
When he came out the womb.
didn’t see **** I say,
didn’t see ****
SPIRAL espionage ELEGY sang
now or never or ever again.
RAINTIME odysseys
left im babbling rancid
The ragtime freaks giving him looks
from the left of the sandbags,
The night, the night,
too long, too long,
The night’s a *****
i can’t stay, i can’t stay
to night’s a *****
i can’t stay with this *****
this ***** no
take these ropes off
this *****
***** take these chains off
i will, i will
i, no
you are you
people
you are *******
you are stupid *******
these are chains
i am chained
who
why
god
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC