...nayam...

Good

Buy

Cool

Whirl


*

Itsy and uv th'worl s wee no et


*

Tomorrow no morrow

*

Good

Pie

You

Girl

*

Buy Buy Birdies

*

...gold...

the only other

gold in the world

was set upon her hair

and sun at the end of the day

taking her breath

and image of all the

gold in the world

with her



(RIP Sadie)

...crooked street...

single paved Pavonia

stinking singularly above

the former pavement

eyes glazed like turkey or ham

rain stained bags of trash

that didn't make truck

little dimes bags filled

with sidewalk detritus

cement smokers

the bulbous nosed men

searching for help

Black Friday flyers filing

into potholes to fulfill

other concrete dreams
                             
               of kids and cracks
     
               caught in the crooked street

...so long gone...

i have failed you

dear lover and life giver

to stay beneath your

feet and foundation

to hold ground

for earth not water

I have failed before

and will fail again

you must not be so

dependent upon me

do not stand upon me

I can only stay afloat

for so long

...management...

the green bottle

as the bottled up banger

beats along the street

to find a dime or pickle

out the barrel or feral

like a banger

of bottled up anger

(he is hungry

and wants to reflect

green light

...zooming in...

playing with your thumb

and forefinger, increase,


decrease the size and scale


fixing and touching up


an instant of gratification


is the only image 


during this moment 

...press sure...

you lay your hand

on mine and press it slightly

I look at your eyes 

and press them slightly

with my own

you feel this pressure

like a barometer rising

the nerves you get

when we kiss makes

you stiff

but I will come in

press my lips against

your pressures

and once again

to your lips

and they begin

to turn up

our bodies begin to 

turn down

MCA's Last Day

" Roses are red

Violets are blue

I got my barrel-action now

so what the fuck you gonna do"

                      ---A. Yauch, RIP



While I would love to write a poem here, I simply cannot. I will, just not here. Instead, I offer just a few words to express how important Adam Yauch's voice was to me as a kid. The Beastie Boys saved me from mediocre music. They made me rebel, rebuke, and revolt against things I didn't understand at the time. More importantly, they taught me that a one trick pony really is dead before it hits the farm. That you didn't have to be pigeon-holed and categorized from one project to the next. There was a core sound that is unmistakable in their music, yet each album tried different sounds out. Paul's Boutique will forever be the epitome of music to me. It is one of the greatest albums that has ever existed. MCA's unique scratch and rasp is unforgettable and he used that voice way more off stage than he ever did on it. Either way, he was one of the most definitive voices of my childhood, engrained in my brain, so clear I can conjure it up whenever I want. I usually use the lyrics above because they were just so badass. You will be missed. Namaste.

....of the world...

i'm not worried
about it wither
wane wand threshold
tune trimmed hellhole

the dirty doored studio

nor should you worry
about the weaver
whether or not
the weather changes
to morrow to day to never

the flawed floored floor plan

inside jokes with outside
jackets june bug joints
lit with wick windless
winding strand standing
stalled on the side
of the imploded ediface

the fresh desktop stop

don't be furious
with it wither it like flowers
and skin over bones
brandy dashed stones and rocks
falling over clefts and cliffs

the tall tall edge of the world

...wisdom and teeth...

if the lesson is not learned
then rinse rather repeat

we cannot help you if
you do not ask for help

thirty times a day
the time strikes timid

forty times a day
the tongue darts tough

differentiation isn't coincidence
incidence is never dental

or oral for that matter
but wisdom and teeth

cracked as they may be
seek truth and truisms

over bullshit, con-jobs,
ignorance, or fountains

of youth, gardens of adherence
to single paths, monosyllabic

lines of cocaine and zombies
that partake. The day is long

enough as it is. We don't
need to write any longer

than we should.

...stuck like lines...

dusty glaze on walls

have not picked you up

out of time and tune

nicks along the neck

small dents in wooden

body curved like hips

full and low toned

hands lie on inlay

and try to pluck

strum and play

but song does not come

so easy

stuck like lines

in the throat

unwritten and unwilling

vibrations along the bridge

and words that rhyme

with string

...seek threads stained blue...

seek threads stained blue

stand tall thin through

true to you

glacial falling

glottal stopping

global failing

these are what is true

there is no more you

seek threads stained blue

...the union is fucking dead...

the wick instead of the gas.

the stroke instead of the pluck.

the angle over the angel.

the in-motion over the stuck.

the kindness under the madness.

the strongest under the weak.

the daily image of fragility.

the costs of unsettled speech.

the county over the state.

the state over the fed.

the warnings lack transparency.

the union is fucking dead.

...warnings against passion...

don't love that too much

it/he/she/they will not bare it

Smother is your mother with an S

puppies will dominate you

don't love them too much

same with people you don't care

about because their opinions matter

most they don't love you

don't find passion in books

art, poems or song either

find them only in cooking

in making salts

making sauce

please

please do not find

passion in something that is

compassionate

you just may fall for it

..O...

O new this year

O throw this last one away

O shit there it is

O last of the rumors

O last of the civilizations

we we we

will will will

eject our overcoats

throw balls of rice

O shit that's what we forgot

O we will O

O shit there it is

O last of the rumors

O last of the civilizations