truths

Luis Camnitzer, The Photograph

CRAVING..............

stacked firewood
worn leather
chopped beets
clean hair
dark wood
lukewarm coffee
hot tea
spiked cider
piled blankets
large prints
filled bookshelves
wool socks
patterned rugs
tall ladders
brown, black, and every shade boots
hovering rain
framed photos
oversized sweaters
natural light
colorful tiles
mason jars
and the smell of something baking...where you're still wondering what it could be

that's all I got for now....more wants posing as needs to come I'm sure of it.

The World Didn't End

I'm choosing to believe the new year began on the january 2nd. I got a place to live, work slowed down, ate red meat, and I finally witnessed someone openly pissing all over the subway (what I believed until this moment to be an NYC myth).
Champagne rained from my ceiling upon entering 2012...not enough for an umbrella or even a mouthful...but I found it a lovely way to begin the Mayan apocalypse.


Photos from http://splitpeavintageblog.tumblr.com/

Reality is malleable

"An Awful big Adventure" by Tim Walker in UK December Vogue

(last poem for the zine, it's not even a poem....it might just be the way I speak)

I recall what never happened with perfect clarity

Some call me liar

But I call me a storyteller

A fact and fiction weaver

An oral enthusiast

(please insert fellatio joke where you see fit)

It was forgettable

Spin it

Tell it, don’t talk it

They’ll remember

For reality is malleable

Paper is shredable

And I would literally die

if I could not exaggerate

A new language created from butchering the old

Now I communicate falsities with aggressive confidence

Poems and image.

Have to click to enlarge and be able to read...unless you got that 40/20 vision.

There is a world...

Images for zine.

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

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?"

Whitetrash and Lesbian Moms poems

Newest poems for my third zine, they're still in working condition.

Carol is a suburban mother of three high on Prozac

With a name like that she was offered little choice in the path her life took

Barb drinks draft Pabst Blue Ribbon with breakfast every morning

Name choice again, determining destiny

But alas there was lesbian sex in suburbia

Quite literally leaving it to beaver

Just add splash of semen to lead to my birth

A moment where people came together

Where people believed in something that will inevitably fail

Years ago, I found Big Barb’s vibrator in the closet

Thought it was a flashlight and then decided

_________(STILL IN PROGRESS)

I would walk around the neighborhood at night

Preferring the lightless streets

It always smelt like pop tarts that are missing the rainbow sprinkles

There were so many straight people I feel uncomfortable

I had lots crafting hobbies

And a dismal sex life

Last year I sat in my prom dress just waiting to break my hymen

I wanted that virgin mary extra bloody

But I find fucking with the opposite sex is a bit repulsive

All the men I dated were too hairy with small dicks

So as of now I’m sitting bed eating pizza

Wine stains laced through the room

And there’s a passed out M to F tranny next to me

My moms love her and frankly, for the next few months I do too

__________________________________________________

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 7:30-10 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

_______(STILL IN PROGRESS)

What can I say, you can’t hide money.

New Poem for "In Case of Loss..., Edition 3"

Corporate America has done a beautiful job at making us feel like we have choices

To believe we have control of our own lives

Yes, this false sense of empowerment feels damn good

We used to live in the wilderness

Walked with the deer

Gave that up

Also gave up the sauce, was real big on the sauce

But then we found the lord Jesus, yes, oh Jesus!

He wasn’t actually in front of us

He was outlined in red and blue

When we put on those 3D glasses, we can hug Him

Waves and signals

Batteries and chargers

Twenty-first century fulfillment

Remember those things we thought we cared about?

Moments that made us feel something?

The smell of earth and old leather

The taste of another humans sweat

Life was just givin’ it away for free

But lucky for us we can purchase our lives now

and they’re on sale!

_______Still working on it, but it's the closest one to being done.

I was, I am, and I will be WAITING.

I Am Waiting

I am waiting for my case to come up and I am waiting for a rebirth of wonder and I am waiting for someone to really discover America and wail and I am waiting for the discovery of a new symbolic western frontier and I am waiting for the American Eagle to really spread its wings and straighten up and fly right and I am waiting for the Age of Anxiety to drop dead and I am waiting for the war to be fought which will make the world safe for anarchy and I am waiting for the final withering away of all governments and I am perpetually awaiting a rebirth of wonder I am waiting for the Second Coming and I am waiting for a religious revival to sweep through the state of Arizona and I am waiting for the Grapes of Wrath to be stored and I am waiting for them to prove that God is really American and I am waiting to see God on television piped’ onto church altars if only they can find the right channel to tune in on and I am waiting for the Last Supper to be served again with a strange new appetizer and I am perpetually awaiting a rebirth of wonder I am waiting for my number to be called and I am waiting for the Salvation Army to take over and I am waiting for the meek to be blessed and inherit the earth without taxes and I am waiting for forests and animals to reclaim the earth as theirs and I am waiting for a way to be devised to destroy all nationalisms without killing anybody and I am waiting for linnets and planets to fall like rain and I am waiting for lovers and weepers to lie down together again in a new rebirth of wonder I am waiting for the Great Divide to ‘be crossed and I am anxiously waiting for the secret of eternal life to be discovered by an obscure general practitioner and I am waiting for the storms of life to be over and I am waiting to set sail for happiness and I am waiting for a reconstructed Mayflower to reach America with its picture story and tv rights sold in advance to the natives and I am waiting for the lost music to sound again in the Lost Continent in a new rebirth of wonder I am waiting for the day that maketh all things clear and I am awaiting retribution for what America did to Tom Sawyer and I am waiting for the American Boy to take off Beauty’s clothes and get on top of her and I am waiting for Alice in Wonderland to retransmit to me her total dream of innocence and I am waiting for Childe Roland to come to the final darkest tower and I am waiting for Aphrodite to grow live arms at a final disarmament conference in a new rebirth of wonder I am waiting to get some intimations of immortality by recollecting my early childhood and I am waiting for the green mornings to come again youth’s dumb green fields come back again and I am waiting for some strains of unpremeditated art to shake my typewriter and I am waiting to write the great indelible poem and I am waiting for the last long careless rapture and I am perpetually waiting for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn to catch each other up at last and embrace and I am waiting perpetually and forever a renaissance of wonder Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Poets and artists...about that.

via http://wildromantic.blogspot.com

People just keep saying things

New poems based on what other people say, still in progress.

You Have One New Message

Sorry I missed your call
was busy huffing axe body spray

This haze of depression is something I could do without

Four days felt like a year

A good year could compensate for a lifetime

If I save enough money

I could have an addiction for a whole year

holding on to the frivolous for security

How much tequila can I buy for  one…….fifteen………..twenty-nine dollars?

I love swallowing horse pills

But there aren’t enough pain killers for this weather

I shaved half my leg and got tired

Soaked my coffee filter in meth

I want to sit on the curvature of the moon and swing

brain chemistry is explosive and fickle

I mean,

I could have sex, eat a sandwich, take a nap

…whatever

___________________________

I ate rare steak last night

I will take no responsibility for my actions

Body doesn’t know if it wants to poop, pee, or bleed

Vodka tampons

My labia is sunburnt

Anal beer bongs

My ass is bleeding

It’s like communist china in my underpants

I’m going for a monochromatic bottom

Haven’t washed  my sheets recently

Just passed a billboard that says “Smile” your mother was pro-life

Hate it

I’ve had a migraine for 12 hours

Stretching the cooper ligament to cause premature breast saggage

I hear one day I’m going to be ashamed

I’ll leave when the blood is dry

When it dries up, you can’t really smell it anymore
_________________

She always thought she was a hummingbird

But her mom told her that she’s a bear

She sips instant coffee, it must be lukewarm

Chomps on tofu and strokes fur coats

Hates TV, instead stares into the oven

Patchouli behind her ear and Hugo Boss on her wrists

Wants to live in a trailer

Needs to smoke more cigarettes for legitimacy

Always carries a bottle, never a glass

Still, not blessed with the ability to blackout

A bruiser, a biter?

No, her lips secrete merlot when excited

Turns old lovers into celibates

Her mouth is the preview for a movie you will never see

She yells over transparent walls

And can open the door for herself, if so inclined

____________________

The clouds have tucked the sun in

Take a left at the moon

And welcome back to god’s country

It’s spring and the popcorn trees line the street

A car with 14 horns passes by

A mannequin in the drivers seat

Porcelain Mormon aliens are striding slowly

Hispanic men are shoveling snow

The anorexic girl serves the pizza

They all dream of salt, pepper, and penguins

Always in black and white, just waiting to be sorted out

____________________

She looked like the kind of girl that liked fried pickles

He looked like a guy with mommy issues

Two tickets for the game of domination and submission please

People are animals too

He hurtled towards lust and manipulation

She held him close

Looked into his eyes and he thought it meant something

He cried love and she ate his sheep

___________________

Five minutes post “Hello, got a lil’ change?”

“How ‘bout alota change?”

Fucking love you

and it’s not the beer talking

My pants are broken

I live to give and receive a good finger fuck

Get inside my body

Condoms are medical devices

I sleep with each of them in different ways

“You come now!”

Homeless men turn me on

In Case of Loss BOOK

Words, I Haven't Forgotten You.

Been working on image collage, but am still interested in text collage and poetry. Here are the latest pieces.

________________________

You’re Dad is Weird

I’m not comfortable around mustaches

Shoulders always cave amidst testosterone

Thought he wanted sex

Too fat to fuck a child

Staff of poison

The lamp we love and would never use

I’m innocent

But I can see in the dark

Mama didn’t have a blanket

(quotes by and/or inspired by six people)

_____________________

If you’re going to be ugly

Commit to it

Be really fucking ugly

This time with a different haircut

Legs that look like chicken skin

Bulldog mouth

Homelessly endearing

None of this mildly attractive business

I have to look like shit to have a good personality

I’m not pretty

But I’d fuck me

(quotes by and/or inspired by four people)

__________________________

Squander

I’m bored

Going to follow you

Graduated from college

With honors

This space is designated for seriousness

Verbal masturbation

Fancy yourself an intellectual

Sip your espresso

I don’t watch the news

Sip your espresso

It’s not something that I care about

Sip your espresso

What about

Me

How much brown water is too much?

God help us

How are we to cultivate brain cells?

(quotes by and/or inspired by five people)

____________________

Always strive to be ambidextrous

Coffee, instant coffee

Cigarettes, staffs of poison

The taste of chemicals

Security level: Orange

My hands smell distinctive

Phantom smells

Stains on my shirt

Smoke in my hair seven mornings a week

Brushing teeth right afterwards

(quotes by and/or inspired by three people)

__________________

Microwave minutes

Nostalgic for the recent past

Can feel time

Can’t grow it

Never reach the end

Never have to begin again

Never have reached the last page

Comfortable in dead roads

(quotes by and/or inspired by five people)

_______________________

He wasn’t really looker

But he could see

A chimpanzee put its dick in his ear

The penetration or the ejaculation caused him to go deaf

We didn’t speak much

I love sign language

Don’t care for the deaf

My car had 14 horns

Q-tips

I couldn’t resist jamming into my ear

Silence plus silence does not equal sound

(quotes by and/or inspired by five people)

Working for Ann Arbor Film Festival currently and getting to see a lot of great shorts.

Check out Chel White's

A Painful Glimpse into My Writing Process (In Less Than 60 Seconds)

J.L. Knox

The reasons I love Jennifer L. Knox are too many to list. But her ability of writing dark humored narratives within her poetry is something I admire and support in big way (you either identify or you don't - very little straddling the lines on this one). Her work isn't like what we were reading in AP English during high school - but maybe if we had I wouldn't have spent years saying I hated poetry (which ws probably due to a lack of understanding).

If My Love For You Were an Animal
Jennifer L. Knox

It would have three legs left, but only need two.
It would be easy to catch, but hard to kill.
It could hold its breath all winter and sleep upside down, anchored under the ice in kelp.
When wet, it would smell like clarinet reeds.
It would break every thing in the house—but purposely, silently, secretly, one item at
a time, over hundreds of years, so no one would notice.
Its cry, like an electrical tower wrestling a giant tinfoil dolphin in a meteor crater;

its purr, low enough to drive snakes from their dens.
It would be flightless, but you could always find it hiding up high.
Its name would mean magnet.

Ants would march towards it over mountains, and across the sea floor.
You could elbow it as hard as you wanted to right in the ribs.
It would be so loyal, if you fell asleep before you took the sleeping pill,

it would slip the sleeping pill under your tongue.

Check out her books Gringo Like Me and Drunk Before Noon if you really want to appreciate her.

-another reason I love her is that she looks like she is going to bake you cookies after school, but writes like that. Who knows, maybe she writes while the cookies are baking

Poetry. I think I've heard of that.

Currently am working on the computer to compile and edit all the text that I'm using....believe it or not, it's a bit faster (even though it's less aesthetically pleasing) than typewriters. This would be the text on the small pamphlet journals.

Some of it you may recognize from the stationery and other parts I haven't been able to use yet. In a way they've become poems...they're aren't resolved, but I think they seem less randomly connected.

_____________

An eighteen year-old spring chicken

– correction, rooster.

He had only seen five rainbows his entire life

He had the hands of someone who longs to play the piano

But never would

Smoke poured from his lips as innocence simultaneously poured from his eyes

His torso was a mile long of Nevada flatness

He smelt like he traveled somewhere

Experienced something most of us haven’t

He is the knot in the worms of my brain

He was the Q-tip I couldn’t resist jamming into my ear

I could hear the record static of his voice behind his words

Kissing him was licking a piece of bruschetta

His eyes were bouncing…I could never catch them

Just bounced away

He fucked my best friend

He left me a broken chair

I feel okay about it

I didn’t tell him that he was asshole

I also didn’t tell him that his pants were unzipped

I wanted to bite him

I wanted to marry him

(quotes by and/or inspired by twelve people)

_____________

A hit of homeless acid and dog’s blood in my mouth

Piss in the milk jug and sheep eyes in the cupboard

Two pancakes and a handful of ham in my purse

White stains on my shirt and smoke in my hair

Peanut butter fudge and a tarantula named Betty by the highway

Freedom in the fridge and bacon in my glass

(quotes by and/or inspired by five people)

______________

It’s hard to become unconscious

Whiskey masks sadness

Masks happiness

I woke up underneath my bed

The lights were all on and the floor shook

I look how I feel

I feel like shit

Look into the mirror

Old soul

Junky

Self-loathing

We are masochists

We crave self-destruction

Watching the beautiful rot

Comfortable in dead end roads

Making the same decisions I made last year

I want to light myself on fire and jump out the window

I’m going to cough up a testicle and kill myself

I can’t wait to I die alone

(quotes by and/or inspired by nine people)

__________

Staring out the window as if something would ever happen

Begging for stimulation

Her eyes shook, too excited to focus on anything

They ejaculate when she speaks

She had a mouth like a bulldog

Her teeth were always stained red

Blood, chianti, beets

Only pretty when she frowned

(quotes by and/or inspired by four people)

_____________

My sexual education program was taught be evangelical Christians

Some call it a penis

But really it’s just a large floppy clitoris

There’s not enough difference

If it was big I’d want to lick it

I don’t understand

Men that are straight

Men that are gay

Men that are women

Men that are men

No wonder everyone is pregnant

My body told me

Facts based on soft sciences

(quotes by and/or inspired by six people)