Casual Sex
1.
Dehumanize.
In linkage I found drone-out.
Doors open on nothing eager,
Just some slutty ghosts
Reclining in back,
Ordering rounds,
Shouting, unreliable, unable
To tell the opening
Of the god red door
From a flesh-stained wrench,
Friend.
2.
O I am
A small matter.
A mote.
O I scotch the eyelid
Of the natural mother
Of windy ennui
Tipping beverage after hot beverage
On first my clothes
Then my flesh.
I ask,
But what of my slutty friends'
Flesh? Or teeth?
That hurt either not at all
Or unbearable?
Parsecs of hurt?
Mm. My feckless moves,
Sketching an empty cosmos,
Crawling in its bow-tied mulch,
The papers scraping the uncaulked sidewalk
An old chorus girl, all buttery,
Have me whispering
The raving and remotest
Cosmic final words,
Now discovered
To be unconvertible
Death-defying speculite Forms.
Not just unprintable --
3.
O be all,
Kind Everything,
Toothless stale breathing
No pants
Inside the tent
Outside the tent.
Doesn't matter.
There aren't any rules.
Though the trees are bent
Into a line
Like 95 theses
Nailed to a thundercloud.
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I am a software exec. and I do secret internet foo. I live near Boston, Massachusetts and spend a lot of time in San Francisco.
I began writing poetry a few years ago in a brave but ultimately feckless attempt to stave off a canonical entrapment breakdown.
I sometimes write with a pseudonym: Yorick_Nixon. I also write music and play musical instruments. I was a member of Boston noise band Inner Beauty and San Francisco improv combo Senator Buchanon. With the members of Inner Beauty I co-authored a pre-web internet published dystopic novel entitled "Skunk Angst".
Any spare time I have I read Shakespeare or listen to Bach. Bach seems to be the one thing all nerds agree on. I've lost touch with my culture. Though my friend Janet has turned me onto Cat Power. My only firmly held cultural belief is that Chan Marshall of Cat Power is kind of a babe. |
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