.

-

(in an ex-nick-name's death)

ensuring we escape our title page,
fourteen-point and
"i'm stressing my dedication"

[our blemishes bring us together]

" - - - always fondle lovelessly "
mysteriously elsewhere rhetoric
/trusting; whispered; aphoristic/

yes, +shut (excuse me?) four
chords native our inexperienced
drink over-pour almost foreign
language buffer
sta-rtst-ops>>>>
[inbreaks / hands touch, mistakingly]

assuming barely responsibility,
sore cold and winded by staying
secular, or unthinkably civil

there is
a big black spot in the world
for you
somewhere

-

you () the sudden solipsist;
spreading over those
unfortunately nonexistent
or casually superstitious
(do i want this on my arm forever?)

in logical neccessity,
no-facts of realized limits

with no one need
(just an array of
loosely related things)

and a point
exempt of theme

as though, () implores "
your face, so changed!"
and words you step over
more easily, these words
as though renouncing the
larger echo, hoping some
things don't come back

purely theoretical,
my life-line mirrored
in double-negative
absolute value

even though we agreed differently
after all,

it's always either raining,
or not raining.

-

MEDIOCRITY IS THE KILLER.

.

you struggle to maintain your persona of a static jpeg floating on a screen.

.

the thrill of :

a) the chase
b) the gossip
c) the drugs
d) the suffering
e) the attention

f) all of the above

.

-

a few remarks
left to dry up

(what a confusing concept)

we started
far too literal
like blow-up
like our will was
never truly free

leaning toward our
best forward footing

-

once again we meet at last

in one further complication
of boots removed and left
(and lost) in sameness

lines being cut and
time, too much off and yet
not enough

to know he wouldn't have
acted as he did, so quick
with incorrect words spoken
by infrequently used lips

appreciating each sleep
and no-dreams, defiantly
resisting promise and
position

staying only
to recalibrate what still lies gray
waiting to turn into
an idea.

.

Conceptual Haircut
Conceptual Poetry
Conceptual Sleepover
Conceptual Protest
Conceptual Garbage
Conceptual Date Rape
Conceptual Picnic
Conceptual Shopping
Conceptual Graveyard
Conceptual Mixed Drink
Conceptual Bracelet
Conceptual Christmas Tree
Conceptual Ladder
Conceptual Baseball Hat
Conceptual Gymnastics
Conceptual Argument
Conceptual Ignorance
Conceptual Idiot

.

YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU PREACH.

.

-

absolutely all those, sleepingly late (after a crisis of conscious, 2010)

when he (who?) says love (long L?) does he (all past love faces blending) compare (what to who, exactly?) you (holding desperately to each syllable) to a flower (stricken from the ground?) or a fire (blazing through the financial district) that emerges in his vision (slightly blurred through right eye astigmatic) or heart (beating hard in heat)? does he (sickeningly smirking) kiss (like every other long-loved always) you (sweating already) on your cheek (crossing paths with lip-lines of others [many?]), contemplating (probability ratios resting somewhere behind his ears) how much (monetarily) further (all the way, all the time?) this (an experience, an experience, an experience) can (will?) go (with no intention of leaving your roommates couch [found in an alley somewhere in 2008]) before (are we past that point already?) we (murmered names, next to numbers) take (steal?) it (all?) a bit (not much, but enough) too far (unfortunately not the next town over).

does he (smelling of what?) shrug (arrogant as a guilded youth) and proceed (tenacious in touch [quick and desperate]) with a detatchment (similar to those before, similar to those experiences before) admirable (how many, now?) to even those (who, everybody, all? [not me]) as well learned (doubtful in any book) as he (in vague yearning).

but you (not mine, his, hers, no-ones), you (eager enough to acquiesce) think (thought) about trying (half-heartedly?) to change (it takes more than clothes), and stop (resist) such jaunts (what a joke it is) and declared (in an insolant intonation) rejection (unexpected maturity) of the masses (most of us [lets be honest]) and dedication (how sweet) to the pursuit (experienced, desire) of positive (there's no place for sentimentality in this line of work) achievements (how sweet it would be to completely forget history).

-

automatic poem for those i've left footnotes (2010, drying out outside of dufferin mall)


a hush into spinal straightness
as if increased height and increased appeal
are two hand-in hand, awkward and unset

instead,

the same cruel marksman carelessly casts
the most fortunate remark

stray well; lighters hidden in shirts and
appear, showcased brash proving those
elite talk sparesly and sleek
puffing smoke in clouds through
gapped front teeth

believe me,

the right words to announce my departure
aren't mine at all
but yours
unsaid, good lord,
why so quiet?

-

automatic poem for the blissfully unaware (dufferin grove, 2010)


sprawled out and knees up and novels
block out the sun and stretched out
in unisex fragrance

undying persistance and influence
peaks at palm-sized (pardon the
phrase) with a secret or two,
quickly paired-off and kissing sweet
and slowing down only when nobody
is expecting it

"the past is a multicoloured taffeta."

leaning towards lines with
no traces, nobody can find
an old repeater with nothing
but knees to touch
in infinity presses
or infidelity murmers.

-

automatic poem for secrets and secrets (2010, in a sweat-soaked collared shirt.)

a cold shower every hour

the return to the worst real life,
orchestrated in a stylistic sway
a simple scratch on the cheek
a circle scrawled and a V

we spoke, o countrymen, on your
behalf! - we say, fumble through
the act, clinical and quick!
own terms, degrade! our hollow
shame - your hidden agenda!

look-a-like-a-leering-side-walk
side-glance-stops-steps-and-stroke
necks-in-sweet-songs-on-rare-records

we read to recognize, as if better feeling
forbid! arbitrary and inadequate, as if
an engagement with the expert
sitting clever,
folding conversation into neat shirt sleeves
the populace sophisticate,
somewhere rustles
leaves

a miraculous sneak
on one bended knee

us, a collective parody
to believe in
nothing like that.

-

automatic poem for the craigslist apartment searchers (2010 on an even more foreign couch)


in heat we meet;

comfortable, settled in the status
quo, yet ardent of heart? followed
modern graphs and charts, knocking
reckless consolation and begs us,
'i'm yours!' callus half-natured;

burned at the stake in keeping careful company.

noting of an admirable deportation,
linking hands forever sealed in
radical aesthetics of the past

a greater public panic, outshines
our antilyrical ecstaticism-
the constant meeting halfway
troubled him inexuberantly.
is it truly such a difficult task
to make a motion complete?

pleading for the proclamation
of a courageous rush into a crowd
indefinable, but i'm not so sure (said)
if boundaries, anarchistically absent,
crossed, how do we go around the getting
back, passport lost?

-

automatic poem for the time-travelling pizza boy, 2 (2010 on a foreign couch)


mr. - - -
look away, i'm joking! (or
melting) suv grid this gift we
are about to recieve, occupied
and curious untangling of lights
strung early, through the

night whole mockery tails i don't,
then again, it's deep and all different,

there's a woman for you.

throw to block all bets and four years
ago this would hence seemed quite
shapeless, too custom to last. solution-
fine! may we 1/3, 2/3, resorts.

i advice against holding it.

oh, parallel creation! evil twins, my color
and i tell you, be not confused with hands up!

perfectly symmetrical violence

ours didn't, how'd you, i had to, why i never -
stylish headwound

-

(), our good friend (), as if to say, what, you're too good? for writing words? all of a sudden silent? no problems? shush? no, i don't believe you! none of us, your nasty talk, without it, where would we be or go even, cynical sweetness and verbal feet-sweeping with accuracy and ease, triumphant return of the constant moan! () what? iii - - - i looked for you today, today, i-i-i looked down at my feet and started to speak, i - o - i, () and you, &&& you, &&&&& us, ≠≠≠≠≠ us, yes/ / / /

. . /// / / /---AND

≠
us.

.

I SAW THE FUCKING LIGHT. I CALLED IT A FUCKING DAY. CALLING ALL THE FUCKING SHOTS. I FUCKING CAME OUT ON TOP. NOW I COME TO FUCKING TERMS. THE DEAL IS FUCKING DONE. ALL'S FUCKING WELL THAT ENDS FUCKING WELL. AT THE END OF THE FUCKING DAY. AT THE DROP OF A FUCKING HAT. IT ALL FUCKING BOILS DOWN TO THIS. ALL IN A FUCKING DAY'S WORK. NOW I CROSS MY FUCKING FINGERS. I COUNT MY FUCKING LOSSES. I WILL NOT HOLD MY FUCKING BREATH. I WILL NOT FUCKING CALL IT QUITS. I WILL NOT DIG MY OWN FUCKING GRAVE. I DRAW THE FUCKING LINE. I WILL NOT DRAG MY FUCKING FEET. I WILL NOT DROP THE FUCKING BALL. KEEP THAT FUCKING STRAIGHT FACE. KEEP THAT FUCKING CHIN UP. KEEP THAT FUCKING COOL. KNOCK ON THAT FUCKING WOOD. I LAY MY CARDS ON THE FUCKING TABLE. MAKE IT FUCKING QUICK. MAKE A FUCKING EXCEPTION. MAKE ENDS FUCKING MEET. MAKE FUCKING CONVERSATION. IT MAKES NO FUCKING DIFFERENCE TO ME. MARK MY FUCKING WORDS. I WILL FUCKING TAKE CHARGE. I WILL FUCKING TAKE PRIDE. I WILL TAKE THE FUCKING CAKE. THE TIME OF MY FUCKING LIFE. THE TIME ON MY FUCKING HANDS. THE TIME HAS FUCKING COME. FUCKING TURN UP. FUCKING TUNE IN. FULL FUCKING STEAM AHEAD. WE WILL SEE WHO GETS THAT LAST FUCKING LAUGH.

.

combative cunts and idle instigators.
i am revolted by your rebellion.

.