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DADA will drive us to ecstasyi made you slippers out of teeth, like reeds of clarinet. say “thank you” when your apple lips are calm and collected and russia is free.DADA will drive us to ecstasy
today we are perforating holes through spaghetti, even though it is not polite. we’re singing out our own cantos and ripping up our own eyelids until, teeth by teeth, we are seesaws and all-purpose soap: all in one.
i assure you, on the shore, the bird sings YELLOW and we sing RED, and on the shore you’ll claw back into colors, crawl back into fierce colors, pretty lady.
call them black suns, LSD-induced dreams, and i will remedy the paper star and
by ~speakmetaphor
Being Right.I am always right about things. I have a kind of sixth sense, if you will. Maybe a connection with God.Being Right.
For example, when Tommy’s hands were cold and I saw him holding onto the Jesus luminary, for dear life almost, I knew he would die. Just like that. I saw his life in his hands: cold and bright, about to die out like the light.
Tommy died the next morning in his sleep. It was a brain aneurism or something like that.
Tommy’s girlfriend Linda was upset. It was Thanksgiving dinner when I last saw Tommy, holding up the Jesus luminary, getting ready for Christmas. I wish I would have told Linda
by ~speakmetaphor
suicide poetThere are ink mines running all over yousuicide poet
and your hands and yet you say it's as if
you never wrote, never felt bones or blood, never breathed air.
So there you are: red lips
and curls, dressed for death,
eyes rolling back into the sea.
by ~speakmetaphor
ChauffeurI’ve taken up smoking this summer. Sitting on the bench outside the New York airport, a Newport resting between my fingers, I feel like an adult.Chauffeur
“Kid, smoking is bad for you,” says a tall lady approaching. She’s dressed in a kind of business suit and has on one of those seventies’ hairstyles: a body of blow-dryer torched hair with wings framing her face. She’s carrying a sign that says “RACHEL PORTER” in all caps.
I take a look at her hair for a second or two, then study the sign. Eventually, I stomp out the cigarette and extend my hand. “I’m Rachel Porter,&#
by ~speakmetaphor
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"I love when you make the dictionary your bitch."
"You seduce the English language and use it for your own sordid ends."
[JDM] [JA]
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