Monday, May 31, 2010

sylvia plath

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

.(victor)

praline, masticated and bleeding out the sides of selfish slits.
smiling, comatose, in love, not feeling
Molotov cocktail mountains of mummified orgy, spun webs spilled
out drawers in bedrooms, plumeria spills around air
shaded skin slaps fresh, glistens, shakes in drug withdraw somber sunrise
in the arms of a stranger
spatter spatter, sliding of their skin on yours, 
wet feet on damp bath towels on top wet floors.
the girl says, she says “I am a firestorm of your integral embodiment, I am the palmless christ... I am the anti-eucharist.... the bulimic communion.... take my body, make immortal of my blood.”
...and than to die
.........................

He never saw accessories hung so properly around a room in such a disorganized fashion but purposefully and carefully. 
Hats on the corners of bookshelves, shaws draped off framed mirrors and a vanity, beads and pendants hung over light fixtures.
Much unlike last night when the hesitant light fixed itself shaking in tiny rays through the nights aperture.
whether this aperture were the stars or moons or windows, but the outlines of contents barely seen, could only be smelled.
the musk of books, dirty clothes, tepid air, rawhide, wet leather, putrescent skin? 

.............................

he took her hand she lead him through the path of what was unknown,
he had a match in a cigarette pack, he thought of lighting one but did not.
“Is this him?” he said.
She fell forward, buried her face as soon as hitting the wet sheets, she buried her face down as hard as she could.
“Well.... I will need a shower before I go, when it’s morning”
This is what was said last night.
Her body said you can bathe in me.  Flooded by now of thought deceased.  Horribly religious was her mother and her mother before her.  
vases shaped like a venus figure made her feel a warmth for women that her mother could never extent beyond a serpentine smile.  Not seen now, she knew they were there, the shards kicked under the bed even in the day.

...........................

Like an effigy, the very air as life could not be heard from the lack of its future embraces with the wild as it drains out those who live within forested domain.
Crumbs of indulgences spilled at the tug of every sheet.
The summer felt to come just than as the wooded ambitions seemed to melt with the heat.
dusted piano keys swept over his eyes, bone or ivory?  The same thing.
something she used to play well, perhaps just grew bored with.
they were white in the nighttime in the morning they seeped with a vacant intention of welcoming something.  Taken between lips, vertical and than to horizontal.  sparks rain from as high as telephone wires.   she was dissected, split apart into pieces.  The light did come in the window.  He washed still unwrapping himself of her skin.  He noticed the animal bones that slept on her floor.  Piles of packages of sweets.  Hair and blood and gold teeth fillings.  He noticed the peculiar organization of her sparse trinkets and her hats, scarves, purses, and lockets.  He lit the match for a palmless christ.
the weight of wind. a soul of nothing. scavenged for the mask of a body of a boy.
i am death.

Saturday, May 22, 2010


eh hahaha i am a piece of shit

Saturday, May 15, 2010

i rushed away to my car... had somethin waiting inside of it.
i used to be attracted to somethin i suddenly wasn't
thought it was different.
still in love with a ritually based concept
animal furs
my friend and i just talked about you and starred
you got a nervous smile
you never know what we said.
nothin could bring me back to how it was before
it's always misinterpreted though
which just makes you even more stupid
i dunno
im real comfortable in knowing that
i cant be to clear on here
cause itd be misinterpreted
but im comfortable in knowin that.

we wished that girl would die
and she did the next day
came back as a butterfly or some shit



Friday, May 14, 2010

raining


went to a doctor for the first time in years
im not allowed to take sleepin pills for a week
people tell me i look like im dyin finally
...well.... good i guess
oregon is nice this time of year
out at M gallery tonight,
secret light&night party.
i could be a davide sorrenti model
but he's dead
do u still wanna meet me in chinatown next week?
i want an armsling
i want people to leave me alone
you know i dont want attention or need the friends that you do to feel good about yourself
still meet me in chinatown
and smoke with me
and you can make up your mind when everythin collapses on you
like clouds collapsin raindrops on your checkered burberry snood

You’ll never fumigate the demons
No matter how much you smoke
So just say you love me
Three good reasons
And I’ll throw you the rope

You don’t need it

Cos you are the survivor
Of more than one life
And you’re the only lover I had
Who ever slept with a knife

But you’re my Judy Garland
Oh Just like me you’ve never really had a home
But I’m not Tony Hancock baby
Until the dawn
We’ll stone the crows
We’ll stone the crows
We’ll stone the crows


And you see I’ve brought you flowers
All collected from the Old Vic Stage
Well I’ve been sitting here for hour’s baby
Just chasing these words
Across the page

Cos you’re my Waterloo
I’ll be your Gypsy Lane
I’m so glad we know just what to do
And exactly who’s to blame

And you’re my Waterloo
I’ll be your Stanley Park
Well I’m so glad we know just what to do
And no ones left
Stumbling around
Fumbling around
Tumbling around
In the dark

Always in the dark

You’re my Waterloo
I’ll be your Calvary
Well I’m so glad we know just what to do
And everyone’s gonna be happy
Everyone’s gonna be happy
Everyone’s gonna be happy

Of course

-the libertines

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

i was with you in the back of a building where trucks go ├ętoile de mer
you wouldnt stop scratching your foot


i keep stabbing myself in the arm with a broken cross pendant
im gonna miss both my cats, ones already dead buried in the back yard of my parents' house
thanks for meetin me last night, i enjoyed out time together you forced me to grow up
but that was your purpose and to get me into leanord cohen to a horrible excess for awhile
shit fuck cunt bitch whore
bikes stolen, cars towed
dreams keep returning
they say "i want you babe"
whiskey introduced me to alot of people that night
i say i want my best friend and ill stick with them
like a table and an ashtray
a stupid grin on someone's face
cause they think theyre gonna save me

shit devils fuckin with me like crazy
inside out skin 
666 was written all over us on the stage
crows...i hear crows...its not even fuckin autumn...is it?
fuck compassion



Tuesday, May 4, 2010

glue

take dorito bags thrown down by skinny legs into a shopping cart
telekinesis fastest thoughts 
of where light starts. 
the word 'recyclable' drinkin itself from the clouds.
cause heaven is our trashcan now.

you were the baby in her womb
she replaced it with no one new but that's not as if, not to ensue,
crows didn't shadow midnight but on my face she was tattooed,
and it was okay cuz that day i crossed your name off my shoe

blue gum glued the rest to the street where youll end

stepped past solar trash compacters threw a bracelet on the ground
liquid skin dipping in and out soft and quiet or was it loud?
can you see it in my eyes before it comes out my mouth
why do you lie about not liking crowds?


im a werewolf at night i bathe in street light cocoons of artificial sight
wrapped in your jail house  of pocket filled ripped plastic bags
 licked the insides on the way back on the train

i remember

you wrote a love note in the dust of an antique table, smeared the must. i wasnt able to see, somethin about 'us'
you wanted this but were broke,
the table or my corny jokes?
disease
you know, a river of words don't believe in no happiness.
it's like nothin flows out when you got that kinda heat down in the south.  ghosts blanket my hair raised in cool flashes of death and its loneliness, grabbed your breast

or

i like warm milk to sleep
you can microwave that easy
she said
'anyone can be a stripper
and zombie tattoos are dumb
why does everyone
want to be the same person'

attention craved diamond face, a million little mirrors reflectin back your legs as ur hands sway forth as you pace and figure out if he was really worth any work. 
just a romantic idea, it's cool to have different stories to different people you can pour ur lemonade onto like scat porn or the truth 
Pocohauntus on her month long cruise.
did he like you or just use your words

when you say

'that's why im moving North to where people are focused on real things like money and divorce.
wealth as a means 
to buy my fancy antique tables and nice things'
 but I mean
I'm not a starving child, i dont pretend I just dont eat
the difference between isolation and solitude
are these the kind of things that get used against me and you?

under my feet, i step on every crack i think
if i could avoid superstition and demise
i stopped your fan with my mind
ive studied black magic at nighttime 
studied aloneness 

sent wolves to watch in windows and claw 
at the bars of hospital rooms and voices talk
to me i know it's god
got bit by a dog 
saying that i am not
i'm just a marabout
wiped my runny snotty snout on your shirt
nothin really hurts
just nothin heals 
heal like a dog
fur like a beached whale
cut myself like a fresh cut lawn

my armpit embraced death
or a spot on my neck
more death. dead dead dead

raise the sun up to the east i don't care where the sun will hit my feet
it's almost nighttime
like a sun dial is set on
when i die

i wanna kill myself
been thinkin about it all the time
rainbow prism in the sky
pictures on my phone

clock in the sky
have everythin to myself when i die
tumbleweed on city street
it looked like someone pulled out some bitches weave

you asked what's freedom but more choices to ruin your life?
i guess i said if i had a choice I wouldnt have ever been alive
i got slapped by you.
you said livin was beautiful,
you were once a baby in a womb

but so were you

in the grass i leaned
rubbed off the letters of tags
of tornados i dreamed
drugged, beaten, dragged

alive to just die