simpleRECURSION || News
May 28, 2008
No News is...No News

5:23 PM

No news is good news. I am Jack's heavy eyelids. I am a summary of my actions. I am twelve to thirteen hours, work, money and words. Was there anything else? I don't write. I don't go out. I fix what I can, when I can, and, in my spare time at work, I wait. There was something else there, but perhaps it is gone. I am Jack's sense of time. My mother tells me to play with my balls, you know, to check for cancer. I play with my balls long enough to heal the whole world. I wake up, and Robert Downey Junior lectures me: "I'm from a group that says: 'Build many bicycles.'" I am Jack's thirsty lips and hard cock. No news is good news.

April 27, 2008
last night

1:53 PM

last night i dreamt
i was in south korea
and that north korea

had taken over you
are south korea and
i am north korea

and i am a dog
chewing hard on gravel
and rocks and the sand

lubricating my throat
doesn't let me swallow
the thought of you

and i and the friends and
guests and the rock band
playing and i somewhere

off to the side saying
feverishly and desperately
i do i do i do i do i do

April 22, 2008
They Don't Write Like This Anymore

7:57 PM

You complete me in ways heretofore unimaginable,
you're the meat in my fleshy stew
and the stewardess to my every need
and the fuck to my every you
you're the alpha to my romeo
and the dot to my every line
you're the jerk to my every shudder
every shiver running through my spine
you're the warmth of a pillow comfortable
and the cold of a wintry breeze
you're a lick to every deliciosness
and the thank you to every please
you're the enemy of every grammarian
and the funnest lover of grass
and you fill all the world with a radiance
though it stares at your eyes, hips and ass
you are goddess to every animal
and a mistress to each bug and tree
you command the shadows and night and day
but, alas, you are not here with me
you complete me in ways heretofore unimaginable
in my stew you are meat and bone
but it's time now to wrap up this little song
for it's sad to be singing alone.

April 15, 2008
revenge (unfinished)

8:06 AM

with every night
i dream deeper
and longer  my
mechanical hand breaks
the elgin marbles
and needs repairs

on the table
the tools are spread out
next to the dark stains
of the time's times
levels lowered
tone sustained

April 12, 2008
You Can Quote Me on This

4:18 PM

"Sex."
– Michael G. Khmelnitsky

April 7, 2008
Fuck Me, Fuck You

11:04 PM

Yesterday, I got three hours of sleep. Today the bitch of a receptionist let one of my students see my work invoice. Tonight, a guy on the bus told me he really wanted to tell me that I look a lot like Eric Bana did in Troy.

March 22, 2008
looks the same

3:53 PM

the street
looks the same
only the night changes

a five year old
fellates a
waterbottle

all the way to the
63rd avenue
loop

where is your
meticulous
care

all i see is residue
of change
memory

and a few old
teabags
used more than once

intangibility
time
taste

March 20, 2008
biological imperative

8:34 PM

biting the hand
that will shake
the hand that

feeds me
i wonder
how the description

fits  how the
facets match
turning and

turning in the
light  refracting
this way

and that  reflecting
light & lie
beautifully

how much bananas
how is chinaski
these days

rolling in his
grave  biting
the sand

and the dogs  and
the sunset  and
despotism

starting somewhere
off  and in
the middle

wishing
for a better
life

but still cringing
under the weight
of the purchase

I bite
bite
bite the hand

March 19, 2008
the crow...

11:14 PM

the crow speaks to me again  tells me
who is going to quit next  bail out
punchcard  saladfork in hand
parachute and all

a little bird tells me that the
late chinaski is up to no good again
touring the supermarkets
with ginsberg et alii

telling the world that reading pommes
de terre (all sizes  out loud is mau
vais ton  as if tone had anything
to do with anything

clever wordplay  why don't all the
greats stop whining about the f(ine
art  and blow their brains out
instead

yeah  old hunter s. knew what he was
talking about  cradle to the grave
with the same stainlesssteel grin
knowing every phoneme in the world

being able to name everything  sight
unsound  sight unseen  is still
not enough to tell the time
or the place  or the silence

March 17, 2008
what i learned from the pointillists

9:06 PM

i paint
the madness of my days
with colours indelible
i use
white on white
black on black
in short
whatever is available

i think
how does one go
from a step assumed
in trust
to the thingamajig salesman
and the bd krawcas dance around
the man labelled vaLET
me stop and talk

to the shirt
stuck to my back
and the sudden recall
that i (all metre aside
might end up a snack
for the knife of a teenage hack
but it's not for me
to decide

March 13, 2008
Ten Signs You Might Be an English Teacher

10:37 PM

10. Your DS has become a glorified alarm clock.
9. You wake up with the realization you just tried to teach English to someone...in a dream.
8. You can come to blows with a co-worker over grammatical usage.
7. You know what the present perfect progressive is, but you have no idea that nuclear war has wiped out all civilisation outside of your subterranean office.
6. You come to the conclusion that the guy from your dream should probably brush up on his verb tenses.
5. You know who Betty Azar is, you can administer the TOEFL, and you can explain how to pronounce B, P, and V and L and R differently.
4. You realise in horror how greatly colloquial English language has changed since you were in grade school and that almost all common slang is derived from erroneous grammatical constructions.
3. You carry a few red pens in your pocket and use them every chance you get, on just about everything.
2. Suppressing sexual and homicidal urges is now a part of professional courtesy.
1. You teach your students to proofread your work and forget to blog.

February 21, 2008
Eternal Appy Polly Loggies

10:23 PM

Unfortunately, it seems I need to take a raincheck on those magnificent seven, new poems that I promised you yesterday, ladies and gentlemen. It seems that, once again, my workload and mental exhaustion have caught up with me. Until Friday night, then!

February 20, 2008
The Wait is Over

11:15 PM

Here are seven new poems, ladies and gentlemen. To indicate the amount of time that went into their production, I've included the number of drafts and line number changes for each of the pieces. Enjoy. There will be seven more tomorrow. ;)

• "how i spent my summer vacation" (5 drafts; 17 to 22 lines)
• "what it is" (3 drafts; 34 to 15 lines)
• "a harrowing thought" (2 drafts; 16 to 29 lines)
• "the birth of venus" (6 drafts; 31 to 21 lines)
• "apparition above the sink" (unfinished) (4 drafts; 52 to 18 lines)
• "stolen thoughts" (1 draft)
• "life on parquet" (6 drafts; 20 to 15 lines)

February 19, 2008
how i spent my summer vacation

12:21 PM

thinking about
the inner lives of
walls
i hit upon a
thought
memory
synaesthesia evanescent
you
legs
my touch
under the table
you again
me
up in the air
bound to the bed
with a network
cable
and you
sucking
on me
down there