Jiri Valoch- Air (land poem-1970) (via UbuWeb)
“Pr0n” (first draft)
Just like the beast
fix the mother fucking buffering problem
feel ribbons of cum-
I’m with you Janet;
There’s nothing like it,
throat fucking cock hungry sluts,
I just gooed on, so pumped about the ghouls.
…i want sexi u
my heels deep-
his inkie dinkie
probably caught Midget aids…
I remember 2 bigger black dudes
putting their hands up her skirt,
finger fucking her.
One of the guys said she squirted.
Vile. Miserable.
(SILICONE FREE YOUTH!!!)
da load anseled my says…
My new poetry project will include found text from the comment sections of porn videos. First draft of first poem is above.
Stopped writing poetry so I could finally write poetry
(via zbags)
life becoming, still abreast-snow falls.
I walk outside assured sticking out my tongue
will get me just a taste of this sky
(which reeks of jet fuel).
Lucky enough to be seeing Rae Armantrout tomorrow!
Dream Song 29 by John Berryman.
My favorite poem. The last stanza being something I’m quite obsessed with.
"This was the prized, the desirable sight, ׀ unsought, presented so easily,
Parted me leaf and leaf, divided me, ׀ eyelid and eyelid of slumber."
Gerard Manley Hopkins- “Moonrise”
Ana
What costs pensioned old coppers their storm-headed grandsons is pride. Pride is a well tuned hari-kari bird call. Kids think they’re too good for the old cubicle. The combover. The geometric cube. Hard peppermint candy in a fucking flyers mug. Existence itself, really. They even swallow their own spit, they’re so cool. Finger skaters with their phones… And I’m one of them. And seeing through the charade of my own youth is like being a kid all over again.
But, like I said: pride is killing us. Cult of humanity shit. Pond water Narcissus in our sewers. Deciduous vanity. The entirety of our loving lives for the world to cum/gripe/groan over, broadcast via web in gilded 1080p. Not to mention all the personal pornos… “Life is but a stage…”.
curtains move, hands still.