Archive | July, 2019

“Drag Me in Before the Rains”

14 Jul

“Drag Me in Before the Rains”

Forests bristle at the one dart

to the center of our foreheads

is the only option for potions

it’s hot furniture, kissed to the doves

I knocked back powdered ridges,

fell through falls, shimmering water

they barbecued your lawns

a haunted scarecrow

from a distant planet

when planes thrash and the spaceship hardens in disaster

pull out of battles, juiced spear,

barbed battering ram

speaking love in the shade of blouses

desires infestations, to crash

spaceships at some point beyond rash

half will survive this time warp

mirror a bottle brain, a finger in a test tube

a future recreation of each forest

of every bloodied-lip dawn.


“Bathing in Spirits”

12 Jul

“Bathing in Spirits”

In a pirate ship of any town

as you filter out the fish

the sun strong enough to stand

and all honors devolved

for pale queens

sequin into sorrow

all blue, nobody believed in

time to sit and brood

cast off the fish-tank light

nobody will find you

in the bounty

for this beautiful belief in spirits

the dead elves of broken promises

threads kissed, a time revoked

bathed in rose light of blue lips

fastened forever together in stitches

the street that walked upon us

deserted us when we were happy

to blow kisses of glass

belief in spirits.


11 Jul

Review of THE SEVEN MADMEN by Roberto Arlt

1 Jul

It’s hard to evaluate this baffling novel, which either may be a reason to read it or a reason not to. At times the irreverent, loopy proselytizing of its main characters during its central section concerning a politicized mega-organization of progressive brothels caused this reader’s eyes to glaze slightly o’er; add to that the undramatic murder finally realized in the last few pages after which a character mutters “that ought to do it” which was the only other discernible plot point in this flimsy and maddening opus, and you have an odd, airy, dreamy sort of book entrenched in monetary struggle, class divisions, and hope relegated to lunacy. These madcap digressions, soapbox characters, and ineffable flashes of deteriorating language veering into luminescence end almost arbitrarily, to be continued in the next volume (novel) entitled The Flamethrowers. This quote from the about the author section best sums this book up: “He was thrown out of school at the age of eight, reportedly for writing the following note to his teacher: “Senorita, let us run away to the sea. Dressed in black velvet I shall carry you off to my pirate ship. I swear by the corpse of my hanged father that I love you. Yours till death. Roberto Godofredo, Knight of Ventimiglia, Lord of Rocabruna, Captain of the Whaler TACTITURN.”

Video Diary 1

1 Jul

My first video diary features me reading from Splatter von Rainbow, singing a medley, and playing with a southern accent.

Check it out here.