Thursday, April 30, 2009

April 30 2009

mom i take back what i said
about the socks

three old socks, not matched
alone down there for
a long time

i can't believe i got you
to want to
buy my lamp

stumbling across a facebook page
you've never seen
what your room-mate must think
mismatched socks covering every
surface of the room
he said he'd pay for
the lava lamp
but the rest was
your problem
how many of the socks
did you jerk off into
they're lying around on the
night stand
like dead fish
it's not the socks
slamming the door of the mini-fridge
god, what a prick!
talking in his girlfriend voice
your socks pile up around you
he explains how
nervous you feel before tip-off
but once the ball is tossed you don't
feel nervous anymore
the socks crowd closer

April 29 2009

the fuckers who made this mess
me slip and fall on wet green tiles
wet-sock misery and a limp but
somehow that day ended

two cats play
in soft fog
light's journey
we see
picking poppy seeds from the teeth
and sharpest night
calmed with a cushion of
wet air
edible night
night gathered in our hands
and tugged
night to stuff inside
our pocket
large slabs of night
break off, slip into the lake
as we waltz under its
ringing like bells

rainbow scar, the uncertain talons
of a beauty queen she
stifles in the third row a band
of black glass across her forehead
little hairs creep up her forearms
boys notice the rainbow scar
the skin around the under arm she
sighs into a patch of purple
the vision reviewed before bed

and there is a summer
a long distance
under which the sun kneads
our skin like dough
a distance and a time
we measure against
the backs of our arms
we press against
heavy glass
but everything goes
the same speed
our flat tan skin
against the glass

the birds sing all night
we busted the screen out
my mom loves the doctor
and putting on makeup
she blushed when i asked her
if the doctor
out the busted open window
the house to myself
my room
damp corners i unfold
myself and my corners
feast on what the open window
kisses in
i think about jobs and hand jobs
somewhere in the future
and my mom loves the doctor
and my future is what rolls
through the window the birds
sing about it and i construct
the setting of the hand job modest
of course and relax in my humble beginnings
as mom dabs
her lips with tissue for the doctor
and i fill my room with shreds
of my self

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Silence in the Nude Recording Studio

Silence in the nude recording studio
Song titled "The Impact of Bodies
on the Air in the Hallway".

Loops of turned-off mechanical
toothbrushes mur mur mur and the
engineer puts on his cap he is
leaving to smear himself westward.

New title: "The Cry of Envy
in the Sound Booth",

The guitarist loosens a grumpy note
from his guitar uncomfortably aware of
being in the space his body inhabits.

They once had a drummer but he
dedicated his life to inventing the
mobile drum kit which the musician
does not play but plays with as it
travels around stage on its own accord.

The vocalist sang the space
between the words and the
guitarist nailed his guitar to the wall
sat down across from it
and this song was called
"Memory of the Concert in Sondra's Basement".

Monday, April 20, 2009

The thought that kept me up all night

There is a space between everything


Friday, April 10, 2009

Mystery Smell

I snapped at the waist and
My hair kept going
Splat on the wall
Could my roommate be trying to fatten me?

The mystery smell…
Brown-cheeked girl in snow boots
I tied it to you.

Last Night

They crashed through the glass ceiling above the dance floor
And beat the beer pong champion with their nightsticks
Before roasting his genitals over a fire on the roof.

They dumped the water cooler of jungle juice down the sewer
And made us watch.

I recognized the scalp of my friend
Dangling from the sheriff’s belt.