September 5, 2008

Freeze, don't move
Youve been chosen as an extra in the movie adaptation
Of the sequel to your life



Collier Schoor, Radio, 2005

Too Many Lifetimes Like This One, Right?
-- by Richard Brautigan

Too many lifetimes like this one, right?
Hungover, surrounded by general goofiness,
lonely, can't get it up, I feel like a pile of bleached cat shit.


I Am a Girl
-- by Jennifer L. Knox

with a very big dick. Actually
I am a little bird-girl with a very,
very big dick. It’s bigger than my
wing span though I’m flightless.
My dick’s so big it must be checked
at the airport. No, that’s a joke
and no jokes this time. I really need
to tell you right now about my dick:
how it is (good…big) but especially

what’s behind it: curtain draws back:
a cave, like the innards of a geode,
the walls wink and beep tiny lights.
You can’t fuck it unless you’re made
of numbers. No adhesive sticks. It flew
millions of miles and years through
fires to get here and hide. Why—I
don’t know. I’m telling you this because

I must be ready for the crow with God
knows what behind the big pussy
strapped to its face.


Uncle Charlie
-- by Damien Echols

My best friend’s uncle
used to tell us stories
about life in Vietnam.
He smoked hand-rolled cigarettes
that turned his fingers yellow
and sipped whiskey straight from the bottle
as he explained how they’d used chocolate bars
to lure the children to landmines.
He chuckled while describing
the way the 'gooks' exploded,
but told us we were too young
to hear about the whorehouses
he’d visit on his days off.


Vespers
-- by Denis Johnson

the towels rot and disgust me on this damp
peninsula where they invented mist
and drug abuse and taught the light to fade,
where my top-quality and rock bottom heart
cries because I'll never get to kiss
your famous knees again in a room made
vague by throwing a scarf over a lamp.
Things get pretty radical in the dark:
the sailboats on the inlet sail away;
the provinces of actuality
crawl on the sea; the dusk now tenderly
ministers to the fallen parking lots --
the sunset instantaneous on the fenders,
memory and peace...the grip of chaos...

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