Thursday, August 18, 2011

Dreamin' of the Woman I Could Be.

French Connection
Vogue Paris September 2011

Floral Fantasy
Elle Canada September 2011

Ehren Dorsey by Attilio D'Agostino




Miss Jackson....."you git it gurl"

Just  saw Miss Jackson in Detroit tuesday night.....what a lady, a fine talented lady. Cried too much (Michael references) and couldn't dance enough.







Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Poems for the strong of heart.


in 1972, there was a clitoris in her throat
now there’s a crystal ball in her cervix
her vagina both read and reddened your palm
as you searched for your future
phalange condoms make for unclear predictions
fuckery of the mind and the finger
a difficult craft to perfect in 2011
___________________________
Break through the frozen peonies
Earth’s most outer crust
And welcome to the overground
Take a deep breath
The first in 37 days
______________________________
Anxious, paranoid, and running a high temp
But I am not crazy, better explained as neurotic and manic
Tried the soup diet today, it’s much easier to throw up
Currently, having a strong desire to peel my epidermis off
The doctor says to volunteer more
Instead I pop my pill trailmix every other hour
Bought it in the bulk section at the pharmacy
Together we scoop
We bag
All bonding over our lack of sanity
Can’t ever find the chewables
Not exactly balanced enough for those nuts and raisins
Sitting on a constant swing between too much love for others
Swing back
Too much self hatred
Swing forward…jump now
______________________________
We sat in a truck bed
in a two acre parking lot
The Nascar Café to the east and the Fudruckers west
Holes in my stockings and mud on his boots
Dried blood on his face and wet food my hair
We were perfectly wholesome
well-natured white trash from 7:30 to 10 o’clock last night
After that
I’m not sure why we smell like mistakes
Maybe,
we can blame it on
The empty bottles of champagne,
Or the smashed pack Pall Mall Blues,
His mismatched socks
That diet squirt I needed to feel thin
The pint of Jim Beam I needed to feel nothing
Or that bag of cat shit he said was taking to trash
Perhaps it was bags gummy snacks that I was storing in my shoe
The three-day old McDonalds coffee is always suspect
Never mind all that,
We luckily parked our lives in a blame-free zone
__________________________________
we’re encouraged to fuck each other and ourselves

smacking our bodies
pounding of air into airless caves
moaning and grunting
those pitches that are saved solely for this
breathlessness
popping buttons
peeling latex
splitting and tearing
digging gnawed claws into backs
biting flesh
our destruction and production simultaneously
sexual attention deficit disorders have made us the animals we are




Tuesday, August 2, 2011

to print a sentence.

As of now I'm finishing up my third zine and it reads a bit different than the first two in the series. I'm going to just print one sentence against the longer poems. This is not me choosing to be lazy, just don't want to pair certain phrases with anything else.
All I can think of is Party Monster,
"James: It's really a shame you can't publish a sentence. I'm convinced it would be a best-seller."

 Here are some of the options for the sentences:

"There’s an emaciated manchild with caved in cheeks sleeping on my couch"

"I’m drinking wine out of a jar on my bed filled with dirty clothes"

"I want to jump on the trampoline all the way up to the moon, then go for a jog for 20 minutes"

"I talk too fast"
 "I can just listen faster"

Sleeping feet to face in a twin bed

"Keep your black resin fingers out of the pink room of my house"

"I want to be my shadow"

"Went to breakfast with cum in my hair again"

"Where does the toetag go on a dead person with no toes?"