novelty

tear down that mtn, she does
we do can
there are tries alloverthe place
tries swarming around me, I'm swatting at them
I am in an apron I'm sitting on the curb beside the gasstation in the hot sunlight
in thick tights for summer
I am a teen, I know
but I am thinking abt new orleans a lot
wondering?
when, will we?
is it a novelty, now
is everything abt me novelty?
you fell in love with a novelty
it was too romantic, too impossible beautiful faraway to be anything
but
words, pics, drunk affections
like time pulled over
in the big novel countryside
and then the countryside shattered
into a million impossible pieces
and I was shown in the bustedup reflections
the impossible
our faces, bodies, voices crunching out
us, irl
the beautiful invisible novelty
that we were

I was due today

  there's a bull somewhere inside of me

  a taurus bumbling around

I'm sitting on the rock by the cabin

crept up the mossfilled footholds

tips of moccasins mashing the wet needles

slip off tread slide down.

we used to climb up here & we'd eat huckleberries

  cutest thing we ever did

we did a good job

  fell asleep in rain windows         layers in

  cotton silk wool cotton wool

    distrustful black hoodie,

it's chilling out and 

 we live on the mosquito plains

  but I'm a rockform

    tearing up  tearing down the mountain

like all the other pretended birthdays ever

a weather inappropriate watermelon beer in a colder that reads, 

  I'm still hot but now the hot comes in flashes

    

   what is virtue

   what are justices

  I wish I had a dictionary or a diary

   I wish I was another call

    I found the face.

 it's chilling out 

  on the mosquito plains

 fashion models taking some shots here

 denim + bronze

    when I'm a typographer                                 in the future

 I will design my own font

  that only gets used

   for my boutique's logo

but it will be patented

and it will make me billionz

           I'm an earth mother

        not a Typist

    especially since being always 

on the lichens, in the moss

swatting mosquitos 

pretending we were plains

but I wasn't born today, or yesterday

   there was just a broken heart drawn on my mother's baby-calendar

   followed by 5 days of things like, 

    

this baby won't get out of me

I'm tired

I'm done

this isn't working

I can't do this anymore

help me find my necklace

little hero,

I too want dog-running dreams

four paws bending

dainty twitch at the wrist

sidewinder against the wall

catching triscuits over a mountain jumping a grave

I bought bananas as revenge

I wake up with my mind over the range

burners low

or mountains separating forever. That's the biggest distance I've ever seen

further than space

is

stay in space

space is pretty pleasy

I'm sorry about my body

It's falling apart inside

strings to pull out of me,

whole parts, globs, gushes

pretty pleasy things going out from me now

it's a mess

and it's a broke trust

nothing going in

nothing going on

no saving, doubling

exponentialling

I'm sorry 

but I can't get high as the sun

as stoned as the stars

wasted as states away

fucked-up as a time zone

blood is in me

like new blood everyday

new little blood wishes when I wake up

old little blood wishes

just wish question wish question wish question wish

like where's the wants to see you again

what's ours is ours

what's mine is mine

I used to like the inside of your head

but where has it gone?

is it okay if I change some things for you

is it okay if I change my smell, to us?

subtle to change my life with you

is it okay if I do some coke, would that bother you

is it okay if I say I love you

is it okay if I show you my brain

is it okay if I change my mind?

I'm sorry about the bananas,

that was impulsive & now they're ripe so I don't know what to do with them.

I wrap around this fur body in springmorning

very close to the dirt, face in

the roots

the gentleroots

gentleman earth

I am a bloodbath

an old babe,

with bloodcurtain as cape

my mouth a twist, a smile, a hellow-honey

my shana punim

my hot-air balloon

my beautiful dreamer!

 watching you sleep is a shame & watching you wake is a slaughter

as if you'd notice

It's early, it was sixteen minutes earlier when I wanted to write
I have been up since even more before that
I have smoke coming out my ears
I have nothing in my throat.
I am not a good friend
      to anybody
I go to bed before it's dark
& it won't be light for hours
I don't know how I feel about caffeine
and I'm halfasleep
with a project in mind
that could be dismissed as art-therapy for teens in distress
or it could be adulated
for its tenderness & honesty
and maybe it will be up on the walls
or sent on a plane to another country
between two mountain ranges
where I can burn it all up

remainders

The mirror has fallen to break so many more times since the initial crash, undoubtedly that occasion leading to its abandonment curbside as trash for my finding. The mirror has fallen so many times, but this last at an attempt desperate by K to leave my crowded bedroom. She left mostly a crescent of glass in her wake; I approve consistently.

An icecream cake, cookies and cream and yellowgreen flowers. A birthday cake for Ch. A red dress, one with tulips maybe, forest green, taco chile sticks of smoke. That old coconut scent everywhere, probably just a reminder of the future, the next weeks during which peregrenations occur.

a distressless little creature beneath it all. a dreamless little one!

Yes, this mirror story is not me analogizing, for example, a tale of the innards in rhetoric and flavorless poetries. Just a decent little remainder of a night spent. And then yes, I too should pick up those busted shards sitting like shiny mountains resting against the walls. By the door, so always underfoot nearly. To be laconic, that is for certain...

I love a laugh a punch in a bowl called icecream cold brings.

firsts

Oh, bursts.

Here is what I have to offer tonight: swaying under the projected black sky, clouds in shades of blue spreading waywards. But this is all just a projection, and not from a projector, but just a mind. The Mind. I will also offer, a moonlit glance. Oh, I listen to neko case all of a sudden. Which reminds me of a tale I have never recalled in writing.
Summer, Ch and K, two beers two tiny bottles of transport whisky, a mountain of rocks at the Park, the park all capitalized, carlo rossi, twilight, runners in underwear, a joint, sky through trees, peeing in a rocky crevasse, neko case across the valley, holding a dog on leash. Holding hands & looking for boys, bikeriding, pool playing, winning and losing.
But now: now it is not so different, it is my room not the mountain, but if a room could be a mountain I'd like to say that this was it. Pretty woman's dress from the polo game. An adventinus.
Shades of blue... cerulean, david rudman. Put out in a snuffer. Snuffed
There were a lot of times when I picked the names for the children... but that's nearly the furthest I got... aside from physical traits by collision with those of some loved one at a point or time... ah ha, ahhhoooo creation! Congratulations.
Ferdinand
Merrill