#123 110 th. st. 07.03.10

orange toes white knuckles cracked carnage
red raw tan tight denim stand wide
they said.
fun fun fun in the sixties choking on her ego
we say the same now blah blah blah

some music sounds better turned off
... one day we you might just explode.
bethlehem. eritrea. everything here is so contemporary
beautiful people full of quivers and eyed dumb
i ripped the rest out-

#122 jay st. borough hall 05.03.10

(supermarkets are so american)
pies on sills and liberties plaid fingers knit caps
for cold penises. pansies in
ceramics bought in pleasantville boutiques wilt too.
suns too bright to linger in that velvet tea long.
that stare could brew a gallon pot and sugar

that lace is nice but it itches down there
and it should come off as easily as a sunburned tee
"chin up ass out" they say.

why do all the cute girls laugh about geography? it is serious
if you walk the long corner first it seems closer.
also secret socks stop halfway up you see.

the big thighed girls talk trash

#121 W4th. 05.03.10

drenched spinning in rain heart
break pain fall damned dog

#117 1st ave. 04.03.10

dinner romance married with pepper
saltshaker ring toast
with witnessed consummated.
drunk fuck-fingers make out
dance stop. or not

#113 graham ave. 28.02.10

i don't even remember rummaging through your purse
-but you got mad i found out...
i got mad i found out. home sweet. home

i save my receipts kind of in a shoebox crumpled
an autobiography of drunken commerce. internet



some dumb architect starchitect some stupid ignoring you
dumb as a fish they say
...little blue eyes peering blankly through
big blue windows across rivers blue/red distance skylines we smell
of sweet sweat after the skipper skiff trip salt
brine-minnows walk plod slosh through those white. tight.
membrane toes that run on innocence holes
we dug.

for sinking foundations crawl. wet stones ballast two flying fish silver
splits flop on tung teak.
two silverfish mock
two roaches with south mouths
... this sucks. bad romance; some big flood with no boat
submit to filmfest mockery survives

#109 greenpoint ave. 24.02.10

desperately seeking
the closest stranger is lonlier
it's 2 am.
yesterday i lay in a double wide high
steaming frisk ice slice jokes and twangs and now pangs
i thought were stranger and stranger
-but tonight i am deep in...i miss your eyes were made of diamonds

hours past i last i paced not alone
the island bright spit in the rain
umbrella closed yellow phones she talked to berlin.
red walls fall and murals lie above all
we all fall for the collapse. nostalgia for sucking sucks
i am a sucker for pain. for joking
i don't laugh just shake a little

i am a sucker for ice hockey girls and teeth and bars
and cheesy movies with pearls and curls...
i have a nostalgia but not one like yours with holes and moors and
poorly pasted yellow wallpaper no blinds blinds turrets
water stained punched tin parapet yellow parquet

i would have expected a renovation. i had hoped for
adaptive reuse not this eyes coal. i gave you a chandelier and amber drops of glue.
but deconstruction was more your craft i guess...
babylon babel on balloon too soon to take coffee with room

i am not a sucker for nostalgia at all and i hate rhymes sometimes.
we did decide progress was fraud and my hands wandered from drinks and morning dew
they drew yellow roses eskimo noses. roses won

it was the first in a series of lies. materials trope tripped ropes ran
gaining momentum loosing control

tonight i am sick and cough some watching movies touching myself.
tonight i cried for you a little.

tomorrow i will eat dinner two blocks away and try to do two
double-wide drawl shawl tiny dining long halls
while you look dreamy skyline glittered diamond spit.
you always look dreamy diamond eyes.

you always do

#106 graham ave. 22.02.10

mariachi bands in far cars type
money morning type.
lets escape above ground you and me
to where giants fall and falls (the hype)
to come
like linden piles smell thick on your feet. feel crisp
pneumonia walks feel missed down here

you read dead man's claps clasp
on cuffs diva red.
there is a fire in the hole but...
you look better. (on the whole)than them
-gracias por esto. peso please...peso por favor gracias peso
you looked up from the dead man's gaze just then.

just enough to show the guilt the smile through glass.
thermal bridge moments i imagined
who are these people who are you
what was that... oh yeah music -arriba

i am not always (or ever)
really that comfortable alone (in public)
i feel like the lone dancer at the show-

what a clown.

#105 graham ave. 22.02.10

we were kids throwing
dirt-bombs and grenades torpedoed you stitches and bitches
like, like you know... ink
hair dip woods cut branches touch forts
in forth grade collapse- now blueprints fail
to fail.
entropy draws on hearts draws pupils tight too tired to fight.
you screen- print
deers and doves and deer dying wood nymphs on black alps.
cute.
i measure and cut i want
to measure and cut you. i want to build you a fort
i have to measure this beam i want
to beam your smug drug naivety.
some of us never grow up some of us
never get over it saying these things like they're different

#103 14th st. 10.02.10

beautiful people go to art.
beautiful boring people look.
look. white columns smut!
people in galleries don't smell together
but some do. people in galleries
wear nice shoes
less so at museums...
but still...

are you a musician?
no i am an anesthesiologist (same diff same)
lungsucker contact: i've done something so wrong my mother would die
something of memorial day more hair long hair periodically
i wonder how much of peoples' lives get lost on those trains?
ole!

---

howl momentary mumble post-rational adidas
reindeer cum adventures sum camels coming
suction laugh
literary men humping guns is fun. lovely charm
renaissance sales showcase number 5
of prelude international
debutante insurance.



some girl's dumb ballpoint pen traces faces glasses
surprised by the present dawn
global copkillers love work again.

the sound of keys in the door pulls me out of my mouth.
-tall trees and woodstock like upstate make me feel uncomfortable so i can't stay.
-whiskey dick is best for frustration i ran around the block
with the lawnmower a few times before i found a plot tall enough to make it worth
my while.
-soy is a terrible name for a cafe
-some people colour coordinate too much blue harts blue eyes blue shoes blue balls
-woof woof! d'etat!
-eight if stiffy woody piff
-where is my black hat black cat blew

dart sparks drawn apart play pool in floss and clean
i am a musician and still.

#102 bedford ave. 19.02.10

lapse ghost lamb roast silver needles feel
fresh new holes in nose smell. limousine cats wrap
their splayed tails purr glare.
you... don't stare-
i am not as polite -you ask
for a light
haste stops there. i don't

sometime later i got lost. i ran

getting married ferried across
lake bled to monasteries open eyes stare cold into
lincolns' glare stare is more
asleep in rhythmic struggle sensor's
archaic coughs holler wars and faux doors
think it's holy easter's weak
i blessed i hadn't ran

#101 greenpoint ave. 19.02.10

strange drains. rains pains. derange. arrange.
disdain turns to golden names forgotten sayings.
rumbreath sudden death i lay next to sudden death.
but iron on my lips i kiss for eyes are shut in bliss

#100 1st ave. 17.02.10

mackerel eyes swim mercury
splinters turn over in marshmallow
wood warm and gut.
whitewash fires burn iron glow blue
glow hanging breath. spirit attached to curled corner smiles
by frayed yet stayed spirit attached
soft is the world with black hair
and victorian toes frost glows nose.
those... twenty thousand leagues thin air
write twin mackerel wave good night.

#99 6th ave. 16.02.10

i saw death today
a black eyed asian girl
or an eskimo wine soaked dick sucking lips
her friend was purgatory
plane jane.
death had thighs and hips that- razor bangs and eyes
i fell in love.
and patent leather beatles boots.
her tail dragged in the piss

#79 penn station 06.02.10

susan b and ronnie sitting in a tree
seemed like a good idea (at the time) to me.
three stacked high one low
woman are women are women.
i left the station cried into the sun-
dog gone and jet tails foreboding.
boding well hearths were wet were moaning groaning hell.
half a handle full hand later
one year no tear
the snow and days turned yellow.
and still a lonesome fellow