you will never catch me repeating shit
over & over in a poem. Would you like to
know why? There’s a band from Baltimore that
I can’t stop listening to – there’s a band from
Baltimore yes yes yes!
*
we have so little to say because all we have left
is archery – when you’re tempted to make it personal
just make it universal – like two painted angels looking
bored. Now that’s speaks to me hotly, like an arrow
through the back of someone’s head, like my friend
nailing headshots on the couch next to me, ping spinning
helmet
like this game was made for making heads geyser
*
so much of it is the sound
*
Just when you think you have it figured out, you remember
it’s all about contours – this might not be completely true
– principles create principles
until we can’t identify the origin of the rule – the imagery
repeats in heaps of beauty. The word okay was
said over seven thousand times during the four days
of this conference &, more often than not, it was the
most useful word in the room
*
there a band from Gainesville that I can’t stop listening
to – there’s a band from Gainesville – why why why?
any professional who uses “think outside the box” in a
serious context needs to start masturbating
every single day. They need to invite the virus &
boil their blood until it isn’t poisonous
*
people repeat themselves all the time. I was in a
Civil War workshop & someone asked, “Why didn’t they
use bows and arrows in the Civil War?” and the professor
answered, “This country was founded on exploding,
you nitwit.” Everything you write, no matter how much
love lives in the letters, is a criticism of something. That
is the magic of language. Definitions are never
singular occurrences – if you’re the last one on the planet
you automatically have no name
*
deep down, we’re all survivalists, we all want to watch
the end of the world happen to someone else. We
had sex in the woods & we shot rifles & we talked
about
precision & we watched one of the best rock shows this
city has ever seen & we survived it
*
there’s a band from Detroit that I can’t stop
listening to – there’s a band from Detroit wah wah wah –
I miss that music feeling that music use to make me feel,
but now
I get it from things I used to make fun of. I’m in love again.
Am I allowed to say that? Sure!
*
nock the arrow, pull back slow,
aim for the chest or face or neck, I’ve been
told to hold my breath
*
I’ve allowed myself this
1 comment:
amen
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