called "room 1" is up at the sensation feelings journal. find it here.
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#Peaches is now live and you can view her here.
I'm going to have two poems in both The Recluse and Red Ceilings soon! And I'll be reading next Monday (5/19 @ 8) at the Poetry Project. Links to the poems soon...
The Teleprompter Says to Exclaim. Lip-sunk, meaning a fabrication of sorts, like this or that sprinkle on the cake, the singing wants to break through your cagey desire to be you once removed. Once the imprint is minted, and, permanently left weeping to itself, the emotion lobbies against its own gun control laws, I'll see you in the slammer choking on Cheetos which cost you your last real shot at forgetting the real- cheese taste. How prenatally fatal, elegantly almost-silken. The way you looked and the mirror gave up, away, in. A homeward drive to the ward. Is that what a kiss is talked up to be when we are lonely, chocolate-craving, ghostly barters of each other. Or is it the same to smile when, reifying a practically unreal urge to be, say, ineffable, you push your tongue against your teeth and wish, as if it were your only vein, to bleed the right color, Canary Pink, or Robin's Egg Blue, or some other Crayola bird, for the O xygen. A slight masochism in your genes, a byproduct of silverplattering and star- light knowing only how to form, rendering itself formless. Like all great ideas this one will stick to your windshield, markably, remarkably. The explosion is impressed with itself, the way time took it, dismounted in reverse, engineered cattle. Now just a blade of grass, and one worth cutting other expenses for, while we go hungry and come back for unfixed dog days slobbering over pre- marinated Pavlovian bells and whistles: Surprise: The steak is too well-done. A juicy tidbit you might well disqualify with your own unctuous drippy-drop eyes. 90ish Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
PLEASE DO NOT SUBMIT anything titled "13 ways of looking at X" when X is anything at all, because it's like, totally, a variable --The editors of DIAGRAM When you are just waking When the tour guide says, “look a blackbird” Halfway between the Brooklyn bridge and the water At yoga Longitude 27 latitude 24 The math misrepresenting itself Blackbird + blackbird < blackbird Capital B "Missing u bb" Out of Paul McCartney’s mouth "Blackbird, blackbird, singing in the life of morning" In jail with some of my besties, playing Chinese Poker like it's our last chance "Oh good the symbolism is back in your favor" 4 am, several loud knocks, a gunshot On your dinner plate RIP, blackbird Before the ship leaves for good I am a blackbird No, you're a blackbird Such a blackbird When you’re about to come Please, blackbird me already In between glances at his shoes (blackbird) The space between us On a baby’s thumb, perched cutely Having just killed a baby Part of an uplifting sermon!! In Carl Sagan-- A blackbird--Nobody knows why When you’ve just said to yourself, “nothing but peach trees” My inner ear is a blackbird "I can't hear you. Did you say 'pack turd'? Like are you telling me to pack turd? I don't get it" When the composer scratches his shoulder 4,012 fucking times in that Philip Glass piece In an email [email protected] Don't you mean "crow"? c.f. “blackbird” In the wrong exhibit I loved you, blackbird Next to your computer mouse, Raj, but it's cool "Nice gothic turntable" Next to your loneliness "What a Blackbird Means to Me" by Peter Cole Friedman (ca. 1996) Next to your mistress Luke, I am your blackbird "So how exactly does one contract rabies after living in a veritable tundra for the last several years?" After the river is drained Just a vessel, really, for the guacamole As a whitebird In the mirror In your psychiatrist’s waiting room A little blackbirdie told me all the other little birdies are totally insane "Oops." "So I was telling Tommy not every bodega has that kinda cereal" Within an omen Within a meta-blackbird In a freezer with the word "scientific" written in crayon On your head, politely not shitting Blackbird porn: hardcoreblackbirdfucking.com Two alliterative syllables “A figure of the very language that effects a realignment of cognitive activity within language” In a silent film A Ben and Jerry's flavor Blackbird milk I never take my coffee like this When the magician says “no really, I’m a blackbird” Or in Spanish class, “yo soy un mirlo” In space As in the show ‘Blackbirds in Space’ In Carl Sagan In the potentiality of all things, you narrow-minded fuck "You're so full of shit" "No, seriously, I'm so gullible" hahahahaha blackbird lolllll As soon as you are born "Ugh, here comes another one" Aw my widdle bwackbird In that dream I had where people laid jewels at my feet In Wallace Stevens’ poem In the autopsy photo "Yeah it's a hollow body" That time Jane Goodall was bored of primates On a pirate’s shoulder, sobbing You know I was just saying to Peter there are less and less blackbirds B.L.A.C.K.B.I.R.D "I'm kind of my own gang" "He's just visiting" "It's just a fling" Something we do Blackbirding I'll blackbird you for a blackbird No, it’s blackbird. Thanks though. There are some new photos up in the "Art" section, which makes pretty good sense, I think.
The title says it all! Look out for "Survival Instincts" in Emerge Literary Magazine (Decemberish), a found poem from the Pulitzer Remix Project called "Degrees of Fancy" in RHP's forthcoming found poetry issue, and 4 poems in FLG 4.
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