Thursday, January 31, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
The Fainter
It was obvious how to do it
Yet I couldn’t figure it out
Until I saw it in a movie
Then it became a question,
Was I wicked enough
To pull it off?
Was I strong enough
To see it through?
In one instant, you’re alive,
Eyes darting, heart pounding,
Gushing love, throwing temper tantrums,
Collapsing under weight of existence.
In next instant, you’re dead,
Cold and lifeless, end of story.
Leaving arriving escaping
The perspiration urine smell of fear
People tell me how smart I am,
But I’m not really smart,
More like lucky, and fast runner.
I run from everything.
Did I ever tell you about the times
I’ve run straight into death’s grip,
And that son-of-a-bitch
Keeps spitting me out
One more day, year, decade.
Ok, I say, and make more drawings,
More paintings, more poems,
More stories, more lies.
Live long enough, everything you know collapses.
I know I can be terrible bitch.
I apologize.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Dreaming of moving away
Packing only bare bones of love
And commitment to never betray
Leaving arriving escaping
I wish I were married to one woman
And we lived quiet life sustaining passion
Is sustaining passion possible?
Under weight of existence?
One more moment, hour, night,
Eyes darting, heart pounding,
Gushing love, emotional insecurities,
Making more drawings, more paintings,
More poems, more stories, more lies.
People tell me how smart I am.
I can’t figure it out.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
kinfolk
I
dreamt a wild dream last night
Heard
about two girl cousins
On my
mom’s side of family
Who
live in Louisiana
Both bred
by female chimpanzee
And
long lost crazy uncle
Who
disappeared or passed on long ago
Mom
say’s she never knew him
But
mom’s got second and third cousins everywhere
All
of whom she keeps in touch with,
Chatting
on the phone, going out to dinner
When
they come to Chicago
Anyway,
I go to see the older of these two sisters
She’s
singing in a punk-rock band
Wearing
thin cotton loose-waist pink dress,
Dirty
bare feet, lots of bracelets on one wrist
With
low silky southern voice
And
this way of closing her eyes in a trance
Falling
off stage but not getting hurt
Then
climbing up to balcony
Leaping
out into audience
And
somehow gracefully catching herself as she crashes
After
the show I meet my cousins backstage
The
performer is prettier, younger sister more muscular
They’re
both friendly and attractive
In
small town school-girl kind of way
I
tell them I’m a figurative painter
And
ask if they will model for me
They
agree, and begin to take off their clothes
I
hear a dog barking outside
Then
waking from dream
Realize,
it’s a car starting up in January cold
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