Archive | June, 2015

to the fiends who have thrived here without you

29 Jun

Burger Chef Sunnyslope and 7th 1960

to the fiends who have thrived here without you

fast food is a pimp

McDonalds never loved you

Wendy’s libido is no longer flame broiled

it’s fried

Kentucky F Chicken

(from my book Avenge me. Baobob Tree Press)

Stock Footage

28 Jun

stock-footage-imitation-of-old-movie-film-scratches-animated-from-my-photographs

 

Stock Footage

 

Darth Vader

smokes menthols

 

Your smile

smokes Kools

in a windstorm

 

Bill Cosby

smokes Rapist Lights

 

I smoked

unfiltered sorrow

 

until your red dress

corrected me

 

I want to fuck

until we’ve fucked so much

that the fucking

 

becomes stock footage

 

Ed Wood was a master

of stock footage

 

stock footage inspired

the adventures

of The Six Million Dollar Man

 

stock footage

would not exist

without our fucking

 

everyone’s always talking

about how many words Eskimos

have for the word snow

 

but that’s nothing compared

to how many words the Eskimos

should have for fucking

 

(words falling into words

cracking letters and

drunk texting vocabulary)

 

because fucking

is way more fun

than snow

Red Is The Color Of Literacy

22 Jun

Red___Blue_Desktop_by_FlamingClaw

Red Is The Color Of Literacy

 

red is the color of literacy

and blue is the color of past tense

oral sex

 

and green is who gives a shit

what green is?!

 

Is there something you want to say to me?!

 

Because I’m listening!

 

goddamn it

 

I’m listening

Infinity, Jewel (pt 2)

22 Jun

Jewel-jewel-1280808-1400-1050

Infinity, Jewel (pt 2)

 

They worked all day

and when they got home

he turned on his laptop

 

and Jewel decorated a Christmas tree

even though they were damn near

dead center in the middle of December’s

demise & its eventual

return to existence

 

(ergo: it’d just fucking turned June)

 

He asked Jewel about her day

and she asked him if he’d noticed

a Santa-hat-wearin’ angel

flopping around here somewhere

 

it’d either followed Kirk Cameron’s

crazy film career back to heaven

or maybe it just fell out of the box

 

She didn’t know

 

He’d lost angels before

so he didn’t take the missing

lightly

 

He promised to help her

look for it but before his promise

could clear his lips shuttle bay doors

 

Jewel’d already abandoned the tree

and everything decorative

that went along with it

 

instead of strategically placing tinsel

Jewel sat on the couch with a brazed look

on her face as if she’d awakened

 

to find: 1. she’d kill a man

  1. She’d wasted an unbearable amount

of her life ordering hand lotion online

  1. Hoopastank was more than just a bad dream

 

“What have I done?” Jewel whispered

 

the man mistook her words

for a tricycle

and began to ride

 

the verbal regret

of Jewel’s own inner horror

around the room

in a combination of both circles

and semi-circles

 

in

an

attempt

to

cheer

her

up

 

and maybe it worked

and maybe it didn’t

 

“I had a dream last night that

you were taking medication for your

anxiety and there were side effects

 

strange side effects”

Jewel said

 

The medication caused him to cum bacon.

 

He wasn’t quite sure how to take that

 

He tried to arrange her dream into

another tricycle, but the damn thing

refused to hold together

 

with the night slopped up against the moon

 

Jewel walked out of the living room

her footsteps grounded like flowers

 

as he sat there

contemplating

specific pop songs

 

in a pile of his own bacon

and empty pill bottles

 

and cum

Love is Like Watching Games 3 through 6 of the NBA Finals When You’re Rooting for Cleveland

21 Jun

lebron-james-nba-playoffs-golden-state-warriors-cleveland-cavaliers2-590x900

Love is Like Watching Games 3 through 6 of the NBA Finals

When You’re Rooting for Cleveland

 

I didn’t care

about the NBA Finals

this year

or any year

 

but Jonny and Shayna did

so they came over to my place last week

and we watched basketball

 

Cleveland had LeBron James back

after he’d left them

(which sounded insane to me!

because they never come back!)

and he was trying his hardest to make it up

to Cleveland for leaving

by winning them the title of

Best Basketball Team In The NBA

 

and I thought, SHIT!

because:

 

This wasn’t just a game!

This was James waging

a war against

 

Leaving! and Heartbreak!

and all the other forces

that exist for the sole purpose

of pissing on Love!

 

and because of this

I found myself

immediately invested

 

This thing had become important!

This thing represented goddamn

everything!

 

It was a war of the Heartbroken

fighting their way back

to falling in Love

 

and Game 3 was like

that first date

 

I was terrified until I was nervous

and then the next thing I knew

I was drunk and I couldn’t stop smelling her hair

or cease smiling

and we liked all the same things

and had both read Don Quixote

 

it was perfect and it was beautiful and

the night loomed until

it ran out of looming

 

and when it was over

Cleveland had pulled it off!

The armies of Leaving were on the run!

 

and when I woke up the next morning

I had sex beard and the Morning had sex hair

and my dick felt like it’d been lifting weights all night

and the world was no longer

made out of doom

 

During those days between games

3 and 4 I felt bulletproof

and mighty

instead of heart whipped

and broken

 

Our army was winning!

And winning was fun!

 

but then Game 4 came around

and Cleveland lost this time

 

and then Game 5 came around

and Cleveland lost even harder

 

and by the time Game 6 swooped in

our little rebellion was already

gut-shot and outgunned

 

and the war was lost

only 3 games after it had started

 

and I thought to myself: fuck

 

love is Game 3

followed by heartbreak

followed by horror

followed by grief

I Dove Headfirst Into Your Bleachers Without Thinking

14 Jun

on the right track

I Dove Headfirst Into Your Bleachers Without Thinking

 

I wish you were

my camera scar

 

instead of my everyday

flesh wound

 

I wish photography

hadn’t got in the way

of our trick shots

 

I wish this poem was better

then it’s been

 

but it can’t help itself

tonight

keeps missing almost all of its

jump shots

 

I wish it’d stop doing that

naturally

and hit things

 

but if we got what we wanted

there wouldn’t be any wanting

 

and you can’t run a world without wanting

 

or maybe you can

but if you could

I wouldn’t know

 

that world,

it’s all alien

to me

 

my world’s held together

by wanting

 

like a scalp wound

held together by

a blunt camera lens indentation

and glue

 

I watched something like that

happen on TV last night

 

and then I watched it

a hundred more times

over and over again

 

when I was a kid I watched

a movie in which a young

Gary Coleman lived in a locker

 

not that this has anything to do with anything

other than: this; happened. too.

 

pretty sure I only watched the locker house movie

once

 

details can be fuzzy, but I know what

happened after

 

Gary Colman grew up to be an older version

of Gary Colman

 

the locker he lived in grew up

to be a photographer

 

I grew up to be the guy

who dove headfirst into your bleachers

without thinking

 

the crowd screams like a bucket of

Alanis Morissette songs

 

as I limp back to the locker room

to bleed all over everything

 

until the next game

eyebrow to eyebrow

7 Jun

images

 

Fort Vending Machine: a poem in four collars

 

dedicated to The Six Million Dollar Man and Vladimir Mayakovsky

 

 

Collar 1:

 

eyebrow to eyebrow

 

today I saw the whole world bleeding real jobs

and

today I saw a giraffe penis

fully staffed

 

I saw both things

 

for the first time

 

side by side

 

thumb-wrestling

………infinity

 

sweating wet serum

 

cracking safes

in dried blood

 

today

 

more people were killed by wheelbarrows

then killed by Madonna

 

but that’s only because

wheelbarrows never sleep

and Madonna didn’t get out of bed

until noon

 

eyebrow to eyebrow

 

we are the generation

that walks around with

black eyes

while pretending

like champs

that we dodged

the punch

 

the only things that scares us more

than eating shit pies at 12:30

is the goddamn thought

of skipping lunch

 

we are an eyebrow

stalked by an eyebrow

 

we are the facial hair

in denial of the face

 

pudding

it’s a goddamn crazy

invention

 

like getting stuck in

a traffic jam caused

by a baseball game

 

or breathing

 

or love