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Monthly Archives: January 2010

i wish my name wass peckerfish the blood in my hand drain

Cramps the. It’s a 30 second game, wanna play? Windole and a small intravenous whole, Ethel my dearest. I’m untraceable that’s why I ate my cell phone. The public was burnt out and the termites had settled in for the night. 50 apple seeds in my cider, hardwiring the pharmacy, my mother lent me her false teeth. I struggle to be a nutritional foundation.

I sat on the sand cried because there were a hundred copies of me walking around. I couldn’t decide who I like more, the girl with the freckles or the girl with the backpack with the stolen laptop.

Listless this fire in a teacup. The sea is at war with itself. I had a dream, I fuckin hate dreams that I had to take a guitar test a guitar with 49 strings, sweating and remembering the sequence3 11.13.17. 41 fuck I’m losing my forehead.

I’m gonna start a fundraiser for AIDS. Projector girl on the wall, 3 scripts running along the eyelashes and not even batting for a six.

Somebody stop my luna tape.

Transvestites are dished out in tiny mini skirts, little lies and little lisps and lips are curled, my disinfectant makes me smell but I can still shine sunshine.

It must feel good to hold all the power doesn’t it brother? It must feel nice to grind and pierce a wobbling heart into the gravel – bruise and graze and stab the motherfucker let it bleed all over the chest expose the ribs break them snap them off, stick them in your ears and pretend you cant hear me, darn it must feel good. Not la la long in the misery or self pity pythons, running through the punctured veins crouching in the stomach, hiding out waiting to spring and choke the breath, they and your notes on my door this morning were just downright hurtful. Treasures were smiling round the corners at me last night, waiting to ensnare anyone who walks out of the line, this damn queue, the next step comes slowly for brain is now so damn dumbed out. Throw it away in the trash dear for this period at least, this late afternoon snooze, I don’t sleep during the day, I don’t sleep, I fear the night monsters stalking the rooms of my mind, they say a chill in the air is indicative of the spirits well my spirits do not live in this room, they’re in my skin, the ghosts are all inside and refuse to leave. I am giving them one last chance them BANG BOOM, colt 45 city central.

I write right to left.

Fly over one Sunday stay on the slanted path. Forgive the genies in their bottles, they won’t come out just because the joys of white snow, blue juice and brown powder are all evidence in the trial. Have a bit of faith you monkey.  Their graffiti spilled on the walls of my room, their tempers enraged their figures swollen with pus and drink, abscessed arms, hardened elbows, dirty fingers and pinned eyes, wonder this mess, our place in time, my legs are filled with fleas and romeo wants to go home again.

We left, we sat back seated arguing silently, staring out of the windows, vacant and pretty and though he has left me now I miss his curls, his shame, his body shape, his fucked up sense of direction and speed, proportion, contortion, distortion.

I align myself to the sanity of locked bathroom stalls. That is when I’m not thinking of poisoning her dog

This is today

Blood splattered dirty hobo ballet dancer dances around the empty lot then stops when she realizes that the camera is watching here. She looks around. And then drunkenly walks up to the lens.

–          hey what you people doing here

–          this is private property

–          no its not

she thinks a while

–          why do you have blood all over you?

–          Because my boyfriend Jackie told me not to wash for 3 months, he thinks its sexy.

He made the whites whiter.

Sitting and now writing almost in form with wild animals beyond my contol. I’m pissed and immobile – paralysis, down the garden gate I wish to be led but no one offers this time, no wine no well fine, no time no phone no home

Body bloated as dead mind blank and fools shushed the occupants have joined the fray and here I sit yet fa fa away

Theres a party round the corner, won’t you please please come

Bring your own cup and saucer and your own chewing gum and what is your best friends name?

We were the outcasts we were, the lost banditos of the scene and how I would pass out and do and dribble down bar stools, how I would be fed gin and whiskey and be made to speak up and then carried to the car door then to bed, then to wake in forgotten abandoned apartments. Those there the days my friends, we thought they’d never end. Good times, good fires, beachfront hotels, burnt fingers, those bleached white walls dirtied and tarnished with cracked fumes stolen sony playstations, songs from garage bands in Knysna, lost and belittled, tagged and stoked with good and b ad fortune. Yes we played we faired like fairies, live in the lovely present, live right now, don’t think stupid child, hush about the disease of tomorrow for it sits not well in this form. Fear saturation, never fear the best that works in the middle east, never. My dearest poppish fiend, her sweet silent waters lap all too closely on this barren shore. The bard and last living stand no chance, stoned and dethroned, the maker of this day wired inspired, feeling that begets the violence of the past that satiates the foreign devils that coat the voice that brittle discord that keeps the tamed sniper from the firing the last shot, the shot to kill shoot to get well, shoot or get ill, shoot the bastard the sinister slip of four seconds in the middle of the bursting of the head in the middle of the day in the middle of the night.

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