Nature Doc on a Loop
I want someone to grip my wristsand look straight back at meI want the clock to stop,so I can take a look and seethat maybe I’ve been wanderingfor a while too long, like a loose broken turnstile,spinning cleanly, unbound,though not exactly uninhibited or free.
It’s not a tragedy. It can be another moment that wasn’t meant to be,the aftermath becomes the new normal,the temporary is now the permanent,a workaround to adjust to the instability,to help cover up what is still wide open.
Do you see why I need someone to grab hold of my wrists?Sometimes I need a moment.
It seems like a lot of people want this movie to end,but I don’t.The point is moot. This theater plays films on a loop.The lead roles shift back and forth and with time, we all learn each other’s lines.One of the characters is you.I don’t remember where our words came frombut as you say themmy lips might move too,knowing that it can and cannot be true.
I tried to run away from home onceI had internalized their arguments andbelieved they were both right.Missouri without a car is close to impossiblea child walking down a highway with a backpackknows there is no pointkicks some dust off the shoulderbut isn’t yet ready to be picked up.
Everyone I know is overloaded.Their clients are falling from the windowsand squeezing back in through the front doors. Even their ledgers seem to be near their limits.
I feel a kind of total emptiness.The grass grows back strong when my weight is lifted off of it. Turns out the blades are indifferent.
I’m one weird ass bird and you are the treesYour roots are strong and I’m in the breeze.I can put my home in your branchesand hide in your leaves. I have no mouths to feed,the worms I catch are all for me.
I’m on the tip of a feather, thenI sink heavy, far and deep,the rush of living distilled into a moment of peaceunder your familiar canopy.
I can never be late here.
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 1 January 2022 19:45 (three years ago) link
for some reason i've been writing a lot recently, and i really don't want to have to get a MFA and wait to get to be published in a friend's book before i am credentialed to put a poem in a public space. maybe you feel that way too, so please post yr poems if you want. otherwise i'll just keep posting mine, who fucking cares
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 1 January 2022 19:47 (three years ago) link
Loose Control
Sometimes I try to put myself in a state,call it Loose Control, for now,where expressive results are bent into javelined roads,temporary paths getting all covered up and forgotten under relentless waves of new stuff.
Imagine automatic writing but more visual,thin and slivering lines instead of language,the brush’s residuals replacing the text.
When I Loosely Control my hand starts to moveon its own, independently,thickened water sloshingly flyingup and around the edges of a bucketwhich is swirling in elliptical orbits,the inverse of my motions,the effects of my causes becominguntethered from their origins, and yet I know that I am part of it all.It is from me and yet it doesn’t see me back.
A forgotten mark gets scattered up,reforms as a ladder and tipstoward new directions,one of many landing strips,loud movement then stillness,a flood and then a covenant.
I make my bed and I sleep on top of it.My heart beats are uninterrupted.They make me live so I listen,five liters of blood in a circuit,all sustained without a rhythm. I barely understand but I know I’ll wake up.
out of this tape hiss comes some light
i've been dropped off here,old train running on a fresh sea,with fingertips all cut up and worn down fromconstant use, my newer skin turns rough
I wanted someone to talk to but instead I had a beer or two.it’s only more water pushing against my barricades.we build ourselves back up and see each other off at the door.I wonder who is watching who. I wonder how long I can keep this up.I think about what it would be like to see you stop.
I broke your locks but fixed your door sweep.Your car was fine but I brought it to the shop.I made your day easier and that was enough.
Tough love, that’s kid stuff. I’ll clean the dirt off, don’t worry.Your hands are blistered.Mine are sweating. My glasses fogged up.But I still drop them off at school.
Two-step around the room. The drums and the singingand I’m feeling warm again.I’m stretched out and dry.crushed in, drawn tightI haven’t touched skin so soft in years,my knuckles pop like firecrackers,My hands are stupid bricks. My WPM is 96.The words pile up and I keep writing.
There’s a ship that sails back.I can still see it.I think about my sense of humanity. I think I saw my spirit dancingwith the one that brought me,the thought which took me out on the town and spun me sideways,our long naps in the evenings,unwarned,unearned,walking on air, enchanted.
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 1 January 2022 19:48 (three years ago) link
a moving checkmark has caught my eyestarkly black on blue tinted gray.2 birds to the left, 6 to the right1 at the heada flying nonet not at all like a Monetbut beautiful all the same
you had to be there I suppose.
Hey look, we’re right on time.This place has been designated for our recovery.It’s sponsored by a local charcuterie.
You know I’m only kiddingand the bit is that there’s nothing to get(everyone’s least favorite)
What do you know, we’re in another lineThis place is dedicated to making moneyjust like pretty much everywhere elsenow that anyone or anything can be a marketour dreams got commodified in the bargain
Remember those glow-in-the-dark ceiling star kits?Did you ever peel them off, or did someone else do it without your say?And what happened to that dog we had, anyway?
Some kids recreate the solar systemat a 36 billion to one ratio“whaaaah bakkken-mah day”, old man me may say, “o kai, Pluto was still part of the solar system”as if it disappeared from existence altogether when it lost its placeas the 9th and furthest planet on the wayto waypoints in other galaxiesit’s still there.It’s still cold.
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 2 January 2022 20:30 (three years ago) link
Old man me complains a lot, probablyI used to think about him every day,trying to avoid becoming him.The more I think of him the closer he gets,so I drew a line and put myself on one side of it,turned 180 degrees and went on autopilotit means smoking in the sunroom and washing downpizza crust with another beer on the way to the couch.When I finally turn around I know what to expect.Old man me’s shadow will be my own before long,a long-scheduled appointment well met.I shake his hand and we walk back into our apartment.He watches the shows and I hit refresh.
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 2 January 2022 20:35 (three years ago) link
That’s a part of our bargain.It’s about forgiveness.
I have quite a bit to apologize for.He at least acknowledges that it happenedThen he goes on and on and makes no sense.I try to listen, but can’t.
That’s when I want to think of something else.
That’s when I think about what I think a home isWhat we’ve all been through, andWhere have we gone, andwhat my friends have seen, their new families are growing.It’s aways the right season for fertility,I see all their children and I think “what if that was me?”And in every single case, I would be happy.My friends mean a lot to me. They keep me going.I think if I fall on my face they’ll love me all the more for it.That means everything to me.That lets me remember my inner child,cartwheeling straight down the street,sliding, careening, skinning a knee,getting all bent out of shapefrom anyone or anything I might meetknowing full well I have a place for recovery. Not my local Schnucks or wise-ass charcuteriesbut with my chosen family, the ones who are really there(and don’t charge an arm and a leg and a fee,
Happy anniversary to 1 of 365.25 people, on average, we might meetSoon the shops will open with the year’s first work week.I’m rooting for you, from the margins.Unemployed by choice, that’s the jargonI’ve rarely said “beg your pardon?”I usually say “I’m sorry?” and regret my decision of words immediatelythe theater of the absurd grows stale quicklylet’s break bread and dry it out completely.
― Karl Malone, Monday, 3 January 2022 04:53 (three years ago) link
Poetrylike potteryleft me coldas a pot of teain the studio
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Monday, 3 January 2022 10:22 (three years ago) link
Shins
Whose thistle-blistered shin is this? The other one must surely missIts criss-crossed country counterpart If one is one and two are two how many shins am I to lose To bracken stumbles cuts and grazes, nettle stings and turns of phrasesSod this for a barrel of laughsI'd rather use the underpass
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Monday, 3 January 2022 10:23 (three years ago) link
Borstal sorcerers
Don't grouse on my greasy undergarments with your oleaginous jeremiadsMetastatic angst in the antechamber of Anthea Turner's tanning atelierHock your snot into a truffled fist, you sunny-spayed evangelistsServe my sirloin on a praxis of half-shined rag-and-iron collidersBillious squalls from the Gorbals bill tables while we celebrate Clark Gable's nasty garlic nails.Slop a bucket of hot-steam gas on the coalface of the midnight mass Sick chicks peck at plastic packaging Dejected ingestion of a pupper's playthingRubber throats on the road start to rollick:"Hen, you've had your fillet!"You embattled borstal sorcerers
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Monday, 3 January 2022 10:26 (three years ago) link
All mine were written into my phone while deeply hungover
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Monday, 3 January 2022 10:30 (three years ago) link
(no match for KM's work of course, which I'm loving)
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Monday, 3 January 2022 13:27 (three years ago) link
i'm just a doof in the wind, dog latin
Slow synth waves wash over 2amIt’s 1994 or 2024, doesn’t matterI didn’t have NickelodeonI’m falling asleepI might be falling again,By all signs I am(Each step is a kind of broken forward motion)According to Laurie Anderson.We can’t bothered paying too much attention right nowIn the midst of the everpresent competition of the senseswith touches and smells and sounds and visions,And on and on in bottomless provisionsThe brooms grow arms and pick up the bucketsand flood their lair in lemminglike motions
It tastes like wineIt tastes like honey
Let’s dim these lights and turn up their hues a degree or two warmer then cool daylightThe heat’s on 72I’m sweating, through the sheetsI see you moving,Do you see me watchingI hope you do.
We could just go.We could go to the Blue Lagoon.There’s a free layover at Reykjavik On the way to Europeor at least there used to be.I haven’t really left this town in a week or three.You sit in the sulfuric water and smell like eggs.Weird for a minute but plenty-fine in a daze,3-feet deep water, half crouchThe low-flying clouds of steam out the mouthHot stones on your cheeks against the North Atlantic breezeFor us it might be heavenFor others it’s a Tuesday soakOne to take off work and enjoy a floatfacedown for as long as their lungs can handle itThen flip and spread the arms toward all four directions,The cardinals, the original sin,Imagine you’re the tail of a lizardFeeling left and right and centeredAs naturally as our hearts beat and lungs breathe,We’re so lucky to sit at the top of these complicated systems,We don’t understand but we benefit from themTo live our lives in a way that honors that gift is to repay back only part of what we’ve been givenTo truly enjoy a sliver of the life Is to be adrift at sea, at home with the upheaval
I was really sick on a small boat the open sea there, near Iceland.We had paid a small fee to try to see a whale swim.Now I’m the boy on the big wide cold open ocean for the first time sincehis father drowned himself semi-voluntarily,probably out of ignorance,Out of a misplaced faith in his voice of intuition,One voice out of many in conversation,A form of improvised unpredictable organization, Sorted starting with numbers aBefore the lettersI opened my eyes and my stomach went sideways,I almost threw up but sat my way out of it.I closed my eyes and leaned back my headAgainst the cabin and the shapes inside my lidsWatching some puffins landing near a dark cave lit up by a tourist captain playing an echoing woodwindAn alto saxophone with an unexpected soulful lilt,A long quiet note held steady with tremolo flicksBouncing off the walls and my own index fingers and wristsTapping along to the the perfect story, followed by that solo, the one I just mentioned.I was haunted, what’s wrong with me, live.
― Karl Malone, Thursday, 6 January 2022 01:58 (three years ago) link
unexpectedlysubtle black cat climbs the fenceleaves night incomplete
― Halfway there but for you, Friday, 7 January 2022 18:49 (three years ago) link
Dr. Howl
The moving men just finishedThere are two of them, two guys, along with a truckThey’re dancing in the front cabinand filling it up with vape smoke and laughinghotboxing at 3pm, done with their shift
One of my neighbors is leavingbut I didn’t see who it was There’s a beagle next door that I call Dr. HowlThe good doctor documents his agony When his walker walks off to workhe yooowls to absurd lengthcaterwauls until no one can stand it
We all struggled with his lonelinessThose of us living within a 200-foot radius, that isOn some mornings it would go on for hours. He’d clock in early then go back to bedonly to wake up again around 9amto resume his fit at an even greater volume
I saw the Doctor Howl in his apartment’s side window sometimesWe’d make eye contact while I locked my front doorI loved seeing him in his window frame, looking at meHe single-handedly ruined my sleeping patternsand I’d give him some more time, I’d give him a treat, if I saw him
Now the truck and the two guys are goneThere’s a large empty space where it wasI haven’t heard a howl all daynow to think of itI wonder where that sad boy is
I hope he’s running in a big open spacemiles away from any other propertybarking and huffing and squallingthe doctor in his countryside residence, at peace
― Karl Malone, Friday, 7 January 2022 21:00 (three years ago) link
That's great
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Saturday, 8 January 2022 11:21 (three years ago) link
thank you dog latin! what is very strange is that when i finished that yesterday, i posted a video clip of me reading it, and almost the instant i hit send, i heard Dr. Howl going again and was assured that he's still around. I even saw him in the window looking back at me when i went outside later. it was really nice :)
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 16:54 (three years ago) link
the nice thing is that the poem stands up completely on its own, unaffected by those later facts
― more difficult than I look (Aimless), Saturday, 8 January 2022 17:05 (three years ago) link
thank you aimless! you all should post some that you're working on, if you want. i've revised all the ones i posted above, quite a bit in cases, but i think it's sometimes a nice thing to have a place to post work in progress. i'm working on a decent one right now, i think. i really enjoy using my mornings to write poetry. it fits in really well with the rest of my day and it makes me feel very productive. i've never really organized my writing before, but i think maybe part of that was that i assumed i would be best at doing it at night, which is when my creative outlets are usually sparking. but with writing, i think i am a morning/coffee person. anyway, just rambling, back to the notes :)
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 17:58 (three years ago) link
and no joke, just as i post, the same two guys and the moving truck just showed up! i think they're moving someone else in? looool. well, i'm sitting here at the same window, on the same couch. unbelievable
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 18:02 (three years ago) link
The silence of a new apartmentWaving to the one you left behind and closing the doorcrying and knees and hands touching the floorDo I want to be remindedNo, but I wouldn’t want to forget
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 18:34 (three years ago) link
one more, sorry. this is the one i've been working on the last few days
Mary Lou Retton Skips
Look at him, skipping ropeHe skipped up and down the full length of his block’s sidewalkwithout a single slip or halt, not a moment of hesitationIf anything he seems to be craving a mistakeNot at all like Mary Lou Retton, you remember a nation held its breath, it was the 1984 Olympicsthe sprint to the vault pushes those watching to the edges of their seatsshe launches, flips, soars, and of course sticks the landingShe demanded perfection of herself in a life full of limitsNow she’s waiting to see what the judge’ would thinkThen we saw the score and she heard it and said Yes!and we all said it together, Ten!, watching on our analog televisionsMoments like that certainly capture my attention. One hundred percent of it, the career-defining performanceThe tip of a spear dipping ever so slightly into transcendenceThat’s the boy who effortlessly skips, in the moment, in this moment,at the top of his game, when life seems so easyHis kid sister walks behind him and watches and smilesnow she’s spinning and he’s romping down the block again
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 19:45 (three years ago) link
(sorry, that's supposed to go into this:)
I don’t want to be disenchanted, as I sometimes amAs we all are bound to be, lost at sea in the knowledge economyI try to push back against that drift because I enjoy being enchantedIn fact, it means pretty much everything to meWhen it feels like magic I don’t know what I sawI know what it felt like, I don’t know it allI know every spell gets broken, I know where I belongEvery day can’t be like this and this might not happen againThat’s why I hold onto this feeling tightly for as long as I canwhen I can find it, when I can hear my voice and change it
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 19:48 (three years ago) link
(and then figuring out if i want to include this or work it into something else i've been working on. it contains many baseball references, which i'm sure will be wonderful for some and horrible for others, haha):
When the bus dropped me off, as a kid, I had a ritualI would take off my bag and begin the great spinWielding my backpack like an Decathlon competitor holds a hammerFeeling the slack of the Jansport bag’s thin straps tighteningGaining momentumA trapper keeper slammed up against polyester liningThen I’d whip my book bag off into the air as far as I could possibly throw itOften with a grand arc, as a performanceAs the bus pulled off with some kids laughing from the windowsthe school day was done, the home was still home
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 8 January 2022 19:58 (three years ago) link
i changed the name to Skip to my Lou, and the last part is now part of something else. also revised a lot of things, after reading it out loud a few times and hearing where things needed to be
Skip to my Lou
Look at that kid, skipping ropeHe skipped up and down the full length of this block’s sidewalkwithout a single misstep, no miscues, no reservations If anything he seemed to be craving a mistakeOne to break the winning streak so he could move on to something else
Not at all like Mary Lou Retton, you remember a nation held its breath, it’s the 1984 OlympicsHer sprint to the vault pushes those watching to the edges of their seatsshe launches, flips, soars, and of course sticks the landingShe demanded perfection of herself in a world of limitsNow it all comes down to what the judges should thinkShe walks past the NBC cameras and we seethe pressure of theater on the brink of the rinkno one blinks, I think, no one breathesThen we saw the score and she heard it and said Yes!and we all shouted the number together, Ten!the announcer, the audienceeveryone at home watching on our analog televisions
Moments like that certainly capture my attention. One hundred percent of it, the career-defining performanceThe tip of a spear dipping ever so slightly into transcendenceThat’s the boy who skips, seemingly, without effortin the moment, in this momentat the top of his game, when life seems so easyHis kid sister walks behind him and watches and smilesnow she’s spinning and he’s romping down the block againHis streak is still goingHe can’t retire while he’s still on top becausehe hasn’t worked a jobI hope he doesn’t have to for as long as he can
I don’t want to be disenchanted, as I sometimes amAs we are all bound to be, lost at sea in the knowledge economy or whatever it is that we call thisI try to push back against that kind of heavy drift because I enjoy being enchantedIn fact, it means everything to meWhen I feel magical I don’t know what I sawI know what it felt like, I don’t know it allI know every spell gets broken, I know where I don’t belongI know most days aren’t like this That’s why I hold onto this feeling so tightly for as long as I canwhen I think about my voice and who is changing it
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 00:32 (three years ago) link
god, things can never be done.
last stanza now starts like this:
I don’t want to be disenchanted, as I sometimes amAs we’re all bound to be, emptied into the seain the knowledge economy or whatever it is that we call thisevery droplet of water makes its own slow way to the ocean
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 00:34 (three years ago) link
That Dr Howl one is pure late Bukowski, not a bad thing, I love late Bukowski.
Is this thread really for "works in progress"? Cus your standard and workrate is intimidating, and personally my brain doesn't work between October and like March or summat, so when I had a Big Day opening mail/taking a walk/reading the bible I wrote this down in full awareness I will not be fixing the meter and such until the sun hits my corpse:
I love my auntie's handwritingIt is genuinely illegible, butIt swoops and it soarsLong curves, that (to me)Illustrate: birds in flightMessi shots at goaland paths never tookOn walks in the forestIN THE HILLS
Turf HillScare HillBoy's HillBurnieshag, GaerlieThese are high points in my life(geddit?never mind...)
BellhangieShoolbraidBogton (fucken BOGTON)These are apparently individual "woods"But really(come bosie up and I'll tell you a secret):It's actually all one big forest(also my life is one big forest)
But my auntie's handwriting was NOT ALWAYS THIS WAYI knowBecause of my grandfather's bibleHis wife put it in my hands when he died, andInsideI found a slip of paperNo more than like 3/4 inch squareWith a verse from LukeBland, rote, capital lettersI would have never known who wrote itIf it wasn't signedHilary White
I just wanted to get for my own records before I forgot 1) my Auntie's baffling handwriting 2) The names I googled of where I was walking, I thought it was just "up the forestry", turns out I traversed multitudes 3) the tiny piece of paper I found in the Bible.
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 9 January 2022 02:38 (three years ago) link
Oh also when I woke up today I found this written "chase yirsel son, finish up your compendium of left-handed bassists", I AM COMPILING NO SUCH COMPENDIUM so my only guess is that is meant for song lyrics or poetry
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 9 January 2022 02:43 (three years ago) link
wearing a t-shirt says "emo-adjacent", that's also a scribbling I need to put in something
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Sunday, 9 January 2022 02:56 (three years ago) link
i really enjoyed reading that! "also my life is one big forest" is something i will remember, hahaha
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 16:58 (three years ago) link
as far as workrate goes, i'm in a weird temporary thing right now for the next year or two where i don't have a job and i spend my time doing whatever the fuck i want, all the time. it's incredibly self-indulgent and i've only getting to do it by obliterating every dollar i've ever put in any location
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 17:02 (three years ago) link
for example, i have a list of TO DOs that are getting more urgent - your payments are failing, your prescription is ending, your insurance hasn't started, etc. but instead i'm going to spend the rest of this morning drinking my coffee and working on my baseball poem, because fuck you only live once
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 17:03 (three years ago) link
also j h m i appreciate your use of capital letters and you sense of parenthetics (in this thread it is ok and good to make up words)
gonna do a quick test to see if this works, using the formatting...
Jonah was tossed overboard and Jesus walked upon a sea of expectations and Kurt Vonnegut’s reminding me so it goes, it’s overflowing, the need for emptiness to continue on as your body craves activity blood vessels carrying oxygen and nutrients
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 17:55 (three years ago) link
A Dead Armed Pitcher is Not Yet a Man
The path of a pitched baseball can be curv or sl ing urv ing tnarrow or a l lcutt n ing or k u arc's ckl the f ing bends a the wind l lslid ing or drop p ing like a sick stomach having just reached the top of a rollercoaster ride that screams like a rocket until the bottom falls out of it and comes to the most sudden stop
Instead of throwing the ball like any of thatI throw it right down the middleas hard as I canMy ass is handed to me in front of an audience
I grunt when I throw because they asked me tobecause if I don’t they’ll ask why I didn’tbecause they thought it would add a couple miles per hourto my cartoonishly slow and extremely hittable deliveriesThe other kid grunts back as he slaps a loud smack The crowd roars because our team is away and they are safe at homeWe’re 13 years old, I suckedI got roughed up on the usualbut our team had no reliable bullpenso they left me in to soak up the remaining inningsuntil the 10-run rule arrived, the rule of mercy
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 18:55 (three years ago) link
Pool
Movies on black and white tvs in barroomsFred Astaire smiles and a man plays a fluteI was watching him dance in a musical on mute
When a coquette with a curly qsticks three quarters into a table which removesa stop inside of it and prompts sixteen balls to click together as they roll down a slope to her waiting hands
If I’ve seen it twenty times here, I’ll see it againbut I’ve never anything resembling thisshe takes the 6 ball and puts it in one coat pocketthe 4 ball is flipped up in the air as the 9 ball is touching the floor and now it seems like everyone’s staring at her
Cue ball in her left hand, 8 ball in her rightthe green felt under the hanging billiard lighttinted with oranges and yellows and grime
She wound up like a pitcher in the bottom of the 9thlike an old-timey pitcher with the long-winded wind-upWe all saw where she was aiming and where this was going
He started running toward the door when she finally launched itwhere his body had been only a second beforethe mirror exploded and the shattered glass scattered quickas his shadow was seen down the corridorShe grabbed the coat he left behind and walked outsidewith a flick of a cigarette
Later that night as the owner cleaned up and grumbled about the cost of pool ball replacementsthere was something that caught my eyea clear view to the sky, ripped through the ceilingthe size of a cue ball, when did she make that happenwhat else does she make happeni’ll take a manhattanshe paid less than a dollar to make things plainthat’s a good deal in most centuries
― Karl Malone, Sunday, 9 January 2022 22:44 (three years ago) link
You lads <3
― Urbandn hope all ye who enter here (dog latin), Sunday, 9 January 2022 23:32 (three years ago) link
Oh you're "on the spectrum"?We're all on the "spectrum" that's what makes it a spectrumBut some of us use it as a synonymFor "I Act The Dick On The Internet"
Some of us get pennies threwed at our headIn those horrific high school corridorsBut (bosie up, I'll give you a callback)You can feed your family off the subsequent coins
No, we don't use that termIt's ugly, pointed, dismal and tawdryDon't listen to me, a Doctor will tell youBut that doesn't appear on your 5 year plan
It's like Peel saidon first play of New PuritanIF YOU THINK IT'S ABOUT YOU... IT'S ABOUT YOULet's just go back to bed
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 01:14 (three years ago) link
6 years into my 5 year plan, and I'm not where I said I'd beSo I live my life in Comic Sans, a forced attempt at levity
3 years on this sofa and still haven't got no sleepBut I live my life in Papyrus, cus I'm ~mystical and deep~
Had my eyes closed when you wrote that note, but I took a sneaky peekTry to live my life in Futura, up to date and somewhat sleek
So next time you need to move your shit just give me a shoutI'm whatever font but Sans Serif, nae fucking about
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 01:35 (three years ago) link
Sorry, that one is pretty bad, closer to a party game than a poem, but this is a safe space, right?
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 01:37 (three years ago) link
I wrote a poem about my REDACTED but then it seemed too TW-ish to post so I replaced every use of the word REDACTED with REDACTED and now it seems creepily sexual? But in a humorous way so here yis go:
There is no honour in this townBut there are a lot of REDACTEDmostly plastic, yellow and blackhow can I respect you with that toy in your hand?
My REDACTED was my father's REDACTEDMaybe his father's REDACTED before? I dunno, we don't speakThe REDACTED is my father now
Stanley 99E, for whatever that's worthOne side half decayed, but then increasingly shinyAt the top end, rubbed by my fingersAs I grasp it in my pocket
The other side, only the tip is burnishedWhere my thumb residesThe knife hides secretly as I listen to your tiresome anecdoteWaiting for the bigoted punchline
My brother visited my motherWhipped out his REDACTED, to prove he's a big manI just stood back, smirkedKnowing I had the superior REDACTED
And when I sleep tonightI shall hold the cat against my chestBut the REDACTED will be in reachJust in case
It resides on the other side of the bedVacant, except for the REDACTEDBut the REDACTED's presence reassures meBecause I live in REDACTEDTOWN
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 03:03 (three years ago) link
Fuck I missed one
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 03:05 (three years ago) link
Better:
The other side, only the tip is burnishedWhere my thumb residesThe REDACTED hides secretly as I listen to your tiresome anecdoteWaiting for the bigoted punchline
My brother visited my motherWhipped out his REDACTED, to prove he's a big manI just stood back, smirkedKnowing I had the superior REDACTEDAnd when I sleep tonightI shall hold the cat against my chestBut the REDACTED will be in reachJust in case
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 03:07 (three years ago) link
And that time somehow I deleted a verse break, but I'm not pasting it thirdwise
― Aberdeen Thugs Kiss All Visiting Fans (Jonathan Hellion Mumble), Monday, 10 January 2022 03:09 (three years ago) link
I’m out of milk, out of butter, and eggsBut I don’t think I’ll be headed to the supermarket todayI‘ve eaten and smoked, I’m partly dressedI haven’t washed the dishes yetI’ll be broke soon if I can’t sell somethingand I just broke another french pressit fell with a cracking splash into the sinkas I closed a kitchen cabinetMy pointy elbows poked it off the ledgeI’ve been making a lot of clumsy accidentsand it all started after I started wearing glassesnow I have three plastic plungers and zero carafes
― Karl Malone, Friday, 14 January 2022 17:05 (three years ago) link
Not all messages are displayed: show all messages (371 of them)Can someone tell Batman why not?!?Reply to: pers-164487✧✧✧@craigsl✧✧✧.o✧✧Date: 2006-05-25, 8:25AM EDTcan someone tell Batman why not?!?Why he can't luv Batgurl? Why can't he luv Batgurl? What's wrong with luving Batgurl?Thanks! kisst plus kisses for Batgurl* this is in or around manhattan* yes -- it's ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests164487171
can someone tell Batman why not?!?
Why he can't luv Batgurl? Why can't he luv Batgurl? What's wrong with luving Batgurl?
Thanks! kisst plus kisses for Batgurl
* this is in or around manhattan* yes -- it's ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
164487171
― The 25 Best Songs Ever Ranked In Order (Deflatormouse), Monday, 17 January 2022 02:09 (three years ago) link
There was a quiet family in a crooked landand a series of bad hands which came to surround themThey lived within a kind of bewildermentbut thought they were outside of itOne day the heavy fog fell on their porch at dusk
They were watching the oranges and bluesand noting the range of lavender hues on viewbut mostly they were listeningto cicada waves piling up on each other picking up the patterns in their rhythms andgetting their whole story and then somethe decayed phrases phasing and fading in and outpapering over the seams of the loopso there are no beginnings andno endings
only an old dog’s tail which keeps wagging every which way smelling like wet grass shavingsCome and get it while it’s still hotA person that never really wasTheir family lives on the corner of a blockYou might find near the end of the bookas a form of epiloguewhen the rising tension has been resolvedwhen the plot no longer thickensThey see their friends and warmly thank themIt’s as cold as the dickens out there, isn’t itI guess some things never change, do theyThese are the ones we come home tothe ones who have been missing usThat’s the story we like to tell ourselvesnot how it really was
The quiet part has been said quite loudlyCan we roll the credits now?Can we hear an old favorite in a new arrangement?We know something’s wrongbut we don’t have the same explanation for itbut do we have to have the same explanation?I remember when we didDo we at least agree that the sun has gone downNobody says anythingWe could all use a breather
When we step outside the shadows are detachedfrom the objects they used to representthey fill the valleys with a sense of dreadand grow strongest where there is no light at allI think they’re leading us to the bottom of a welland I’m strangely compelled to go along with their planto put a lid on me to be covered up and let it sink inthat I don’t have the faintest sense of what I’m dealing withthe window is closingPurple and black and darker still until the chill of my breath is the only thing that’s movingSomething small to take full account of
I’ll speak to you in the morningthe rustling wind under your door, whisperingthat something inevitable is approaching
― Karl Malone, Friday, 21 January 2022 05:16 (three years ago) link
King’s Highway
I saw a dog at a bus stopbut she wasn’t waiting and neither was anyone elseshe ran through the repair shop’s lotand everyone was moving away or staringShe worked her way a bit down the blockAnd was soon back in the traffic all the tires squeaked but no one honkedshe weaved through the cars likewater through a sieve andwound up west of the King’s Highway
I watched all of this in horror from the driver’s seat of my car from the very center of the same King’s Highwaytraffic rushing toward me from the left and away from the righttrapped from all sides in a left hand turn lane, waiting, having to wait, how long could it stay greenshe was running out in front of my wheels
some of the cars began to come to a stopI looked for anyone who was running toward the dogand found someone holding a leashher hands were in the air, frozen like me it seemed
The dog was back out in the streettire squeaks and still no honkingI put on my right-turn signaland felt the seat belt sting against my neckas my right hand gripped the passenger headrest
like thin rice noodles squeezing through a colanderI couldn’t believe I made it through the moving automobile lines and off of it to a taco bell parking spotand immediately leapt out of my car like a fool who still remembers to lock the door with aremote key while scanning the periphery
I ran down the street to the person with the leashAre you the ownerYes, her name’s NalaWhich way did she goI knew the answer before she answeredI saw itNala had turned off the King’s Highway down an alley
My black jacket made rapid plastic swishing noisesI was wearing gray mesh allbirds shoeswith gray pants and a gray shirtmy hair was lavender and yellow and orange and brownI’m a complete mess, I know itI took off, completely
She was looking at me, she kept looking back at mewhile still barreling down the alleyI turned the corner and ran like the T-1000that I used to be, for about a minuteprobably closer to thirty secondsit was a longer sprint then I can remembersince the pandemicBC AD BCE CEbefore and afterwhen meeting people was easyNala was on a leash and now we can’t find herbut I’m on her tracks, the only one with the sensor
I couldn’t catch my breath, I was pantingI went over the fence and through the back gatethere are no woodsthe alley was grass, then dirt, then concreteNala stands at a pass and looks both waysShe instinctively manuevers t-bones at top speed
Somehow I’m at the main street, the person holding the leash says to me, Her name’s NalaI’m EmmaShe won’t come to meShe knows we’re putting her awayA postal worker overhears usand is filled with disgustWe are one of the obstacles in her dayand I see the leashholder’s face is filled with bruised spotsEmma, she’s laughing and her eyes are emptyNala’s running toward the trainyardI keep chasing
the same landscape, again and againthe gas station, the restaurant, the intersectionthe tire change chain, the telephone lines hanging overthe cars, everywhere cars, starting the carsstarting the story in a car, gradually exiting a careveryone else is in a car, or otherwise waiting for somethingThis is a Thursday afternoon, this is a thousand placesthis is a hero with a thousand facessitting in a car
I almost caught herI was out of breathshe was down the blockabout 200 feet off and I calledNala! Nala, please! The same words from before but with a different texturenow I was down and Nala was the young pupmore than ready to run for another hourNala, please, Nalaand she came to me with her leash dragging on the ground behind herI could see the whites of her eyesin the prime of her prime of her primeand no discipline she came within 5 feet and I jumped the gunwith no discipline, I missed
I reached for the leash but it was beyond my capabilitiesand I saw it disappear down another alleythere was a girl watching and she askedis that your dog?and i said it’s not my pooch but I’m helpingand felt so silly and I sprinted again, off
I never did find herI was eight blocks away from my carI walked back. to my car. the car, the car.
I ordered 2 cheesy bean burritosI was out of breath andforgot to wear my maskand the man at the window hated meI thinkI never found her, I ran out of breath
― Karl Malone, Saturday, 29 January 2022 23:32 (three years ago) link
The street is cold the dawn is gray my heart says no but my head says stay
― calstars, Saturday, 29 January 2022 23:45 (three years ago) link
What a mess.What a horrible mess.
The rest of it, shortly to follow.
Where to begin?
The ending started as a walkwith talk of the “immediate future”.
It started in the garden of Eden.Adam dreamed of an Eveand was relieved of some of his burdens.He needed help and they felt no shame.
Dead end street.
The people in the steeple are dying to meetthe one-winged angel with mangy hair and sores on his feetto be blinded, to be brought to their kneesonce and then twice again.
Dead end street.Dead end street.
People are dying here on Dead End Street.
Here is the rest:
It’s a mess and we’re out of time.An archeologist digging through our wreckmight be disappointed with what they find.
They won’t find these wordslong since windsweptthe way we werethe way you arecannot be capturedI wonder what I have leftand when to leave
I am starting to believe in some thingsthat didn’t make much sense before
― Karl Malone, Thursday, 3 February 2022 01:23 (three years ago) link
I love your poems Ztbd
― assert (matttkkkk), Thursday, 3 February 2022 01:44 (three years ago) link
limbo is a container for timewhere one waits for godotand knows how low one can gohow long one can hold ontoa breath before it hurts in the chestwith pinprick moments of silencehanging in the upper halves of windowslike potted plants watching gardensglow in the twilight, wanting to know
https://i.imgur.com/1J4OtLS.gif
― z_tbd, Wednesday, 29 November 2023 18:22 (one year ago) link
my elbow flicks the light switchbecause my fingers and forearmsare covered with paint, i saidwhat a mess of a mixupto overlay the mediumsthe message is in the tediumreplay what you heardand see how it’s different
from what came beforesend me a postcardyou’re halfway to the endthen halfway to the end
― i'm really excited to learning more", *sunglasses fly onto dog.gif* (z_tbd), Tuesday, 5 December 2023 22:49 (one year ago) link
I’m noticing more people smoking recently saw footage of Joni Mitchell singing coyote backstage on the rolling thunder tour and is there a correlation between the populace quitting and obesity
― calstars, Saturday, 16 December 2023 13:41 (one year ago) link
yeah, I'm a poem(not a syllable wasted)I convey meaning
― Halfway there but for you, Monday, 18 December 2023 15:34 (one year ago) link
Part-Time Rapper by Scott Seward
I rock rhymes.
Sometimes.
― scott seward, Monday, 18 December 2023 15:41 (one year ago) link
i woke up in the middle of the night the other night and thought that. and then i went back to sleep. thank you. thank you very much.
― scott seward, Monday, 18 December 2023 15:42 (one year ago) link
with the right beat, i think you just wrote your first #1 single!
― z_tbd, Monday, 18 December 2023 15:48 (one year ago) link
under the fenceyou crawl on all foursthe lock to open the gatefrom the inside
i heard your stomach scrapealong blades of grasssplit in half along the stemslift the hingesto let our friends in
we light soft candles reminiscentof the end of a sunsetprojected wide onto wrinkled fabricpulled taut from clips in the corners
― z_tbd, Wednesday, 10 January 2024 16:58 (one year ago) link
the double u is spoken the double v is chiseledw reflects thesoft m in the center of the backyes, I’d like my heart backx marks the spot I can waitwhat time does the sun setdon’t let the dust get wet
― z_tbd, Monday, 5 February 2024 16:57 (one year ago) link
new game plusstarts with all the items but none of the progressor all of the progress but none of the itemsor with everything you can rememberor with nothing at all
but a new body and internal clocksettling into a walking pacemight mean time mightsturdy the fallfresh sets of rules will unfoldas peculiar rhythms that become your own
― z_tbd, Thursday, 22 February 2024 16:26 (eleven months ago) link
shaded blades next tolit blades lit green warm my toesblue and yellow hope I won’t bring my giant foot in the skyswinging down hardto divide my yard into two discrete zonesof careless trampling of careful misunderstanding
― z_tbd, Sunday, 10 March 2024 05:21 (eleven months ago) link
he hit me hardhe felt bad-hit me backcome on, get me back-no, not nownot when you’re expecting itwait until you’ve forgottenwhen i finally hit backwe will both laugh
― z_tbd, Thursday, 21 March 2024 20:32 (ten months ago) link
“The old armOf a new love“
― calstars, Sunday, 7 April 2024 18:40 (ten months ago) link
God is a bouncerWho keeps me out of barsAnd pushes me homeWhen I’ve had too few
― calstars, Friday, 19 April 2024 22:47 (nine months ago) link
Put on a pair of pantsPut on one morePut on another and you’re falling on the floorYou won’t get to the doorPut on another pair of pants
― brimstead, Friday, 19 April 2024 23:14 (nine months ago) link
i’m so hungryi could eat a horseof course, of course not reallyreally i’m so hungry i could lickkirk cameron’s perfect banana, sorryhow many licks does it taketo get to the center of a tootsie roll popi’m not 1 2 say WHOOoooo 8 all the D, 3,vitamin, gummies?how i wanted it to be me CaRUNCHing mr. ed bobbing for appleson halloween
― z_tbd, Monday, 22 April 2024 15:49 (nine months ago) link
New crush is old crush“His weakness was his fondness for intoxication, which had similarly fascinated primitive man” If “I gotta cut you off” is something you’ve had said to you at the bar, and also you’re into Pina coladas
― calstars, Saturday, 27 April 2024 20:56 (nine months ago) link
eventuallyan old shoe will wear outand be discarded
it isn't just the inevitability age
it was just tiredof feeling feet on top of itAll dayAll night
it wasn't so bad when it was newit was good to be usefulbut its utility was its downfalldepleted until it was of no use to anybodynot even itself
― RICH BRIAN (Neanderthal), Tuesday, 7 May 2024 02:15 (nine months ago) link
*of age
we're deepening into May spring, and,the sun stays out a little longer in the evenings I consider you in all things as the warmth of the sun fades and the sky blooms neon oranges and pinks I miss you whoever you are now where ever you are
sns if this is too " girly"
― stwahberrymilkgirlll, Wednesday, 8 May 2024 01:37 (nine months ago) link
by the way - I am not into mentioning anyone specific but marvelous haiku and extended poems on this thread
― stwahberrymilkgirlll, Wednesday, 8 May 2024 01:39 (nine months ago) link
welcome stwahberry
― z_tbd, Wednesday, 8 May 2024 22:25 (nine months ago) link
hi. zthank you. happy to be here
― stwahberrymilkgirlll, Thursday, 9 May 2024 03:12 (nine months ago) link
No one could ever crack the codeOf my new one fibonacci zero oneonedumbsontaps drumscracks tomsbread crumbsglitter bombssouvenirsnothing’s wrongnothing missing heremetal hooks hanging plastic chandeliersevery time i look it’s changing colors melting into one lightmy neck’s warm and now it’s rainingthis ceiling will disappear when the music is righton time would be an odd way to start a performancedo sheep dream of electricity, the key, string, kitesky was alive now it’s dormant the bottom fell out of the airfrom the green streams crawls the tortoiseto tell a tall taleof golden ratiosand beach ball sized hailhell windblownclosed drive thrumissed free throwswho knewwhat whendid youreachtheend
― z_tbd, Thursday, 9 May 2024 04:12 (nine months ago) link
I was just thinking about impermanence and how something/one is forever changing. we go through nfinite metamorphosis - all the time everywhere collectively, though not at the same frequencies is what I've come to
― stwahberrymilkgirlll, Sunday, 12 May 2024 23:05 (nine months ago) link
Searching for SarahEnhanced includes realThey’re not even days
― calstars, Friday, 17 May 2024 22:59 (eight months ago) link
When has there ever been something so lovely as youIn silhouette in the light Coming in at 559
― calstars, Sunday, 26 May 2024 21:58 (eight months ago) link
Omg that’s a horrible poem lol
― calstars, Sunday, 26 May 2024 22:02 (eight months ago) link
Old actor, just starting outSurprise placement Bit part in Ghostbusters VI
― calstars, Thursday, 30 May 2024 22:53 (eight months ago) link
Got my arm out on the windowsill at the bar like a cars open window Stationary rollin as people walk by
― calstars, Saturday, 1 June 2024 19:20 (eight months ago) link
I have decidedthat doing nothingis betterthan doing anything
I’d tell you why
but
― Halfway there but for you, Friday, 7 June 2024 14:36 (eight months ago) link
So goneSo listHe is
― calstars, Saturday, 8 June 2024 03:30 (eight months ago) link
At the court houseWaking down the hall“Your backpack is open”“Can you close it?”*closes it and pats backpacker on the shoulder*
― calstars, Wednesday, 12 June 2024 22:57 (eight months ago) link
Dark ages of attractionYear long crushShe keeps cutting her hair
― calstars, Saturday, 22 June 2024 00:10 (seven months ago) link
the rider of the electric scootergliding like a still life coasting up a hill of beans meant more to methan the limbs of arcing deliveryloose and sinewyit was all we wanted in the sandlot heatto hang a crooked numberin the fifth frame, throw itsomewhere near the middleuncut fields hides a cat napbut my left leg’s gone numbso i’ll see you in the groupchat
― z_tbd, Thursday, 11 July 2024 18:00 (seven months ago) link
At the bar , I ordered a beer and went to the bathroom I had been here five years ago Someone had painted over my tiniest of graffiti
― calstars, Friday, 2 August 2024 03:11 (six months ago) link
A Song A song for the outstretched fields of France and the endless games of chance and the needles on the blackboard and the skin razor flute bagpipe jollies and the tight pants naked folly and the syrup-laden sled across hippie homestead quickenings and the stew of my mind corn thickening and your fragrant oily dreadclumps and the self-help spine-bound entreaties and the last of the self-made Mohicans and the first of the metaphysical swallows and the third of the post-structuralist waitresses and the ninth resurrected magician and a song, a song, a song.
― keen reverberations of twee (collardio gelatinous), Tuesday, 6 August 2024 02:56 (six months ago) link
The toothy grinOf the man driving the ice cream truckAs he drove into the Macy's storefrontIs not an American tragedy
Because
Only mannequins died
But
I'm still jealous of the mannequin In a way
― smears for fears (Neanderthal), Tuesday, 22 October 2024 04:02 (three months ago) link
It’s ok to lose And not say anything at the barIt’s somewhat expectedAnd better than being coked up and chatty
― calstars, Sunday, 10 November 2024 23:29 (three months ago) link
“The promise of the night”Is nothingBut it’s nice to pretend
― calstars, Friday, 15 November 2024 22:49 (two months ago) link
1, 2, 3 and to the 4Stefan from UPS is at your doorHe's been here for ten minutes, so open upOr he'll rip your fuckin package up
― Joe Boudin (Neanderthal), Saturday, 16 November 2024 17:00 (two months ago) link
Will you ever learn?toaster waffles are no goodthey're too thin to keep their shapeand in the heat they burn
sugar syrup scorcheson the nichrome wiresthey may smell nicebut the taste leave muchto be desired
― you gotta roll with the pączki to get to what's real (snoball), Saturday, 16 November 2024 17:10 (two months ago) link
You appeared / you didn’tShe’s stocking the fridge? Been downstairs for a minute
― calstars, Saturday, 30 November 2024 02:42 (two months ago) link
climbing the curtainscovered in flieswiling the hours awaydrawn to the airpulled to the screen
look through the window of opportunity
is the world happeningis god so graciousis god so sweetlyturning over the soilworking all the timeon juniata street
― z_tbd, Sunday, 1 December 2024 22:29 (two months ago) link
please don’t leave my virtual hellscape
but you took my lootyes you did!you yanked it out from under mewhile i was trying to help youi used my last magic pointsto cast respawn and save your assthe trouble of the long journeyyou appeared as if out of thin airthe next dimension slicing through
again you livedand then you immediately took my looteven though your inventory was fullso you had no space for the the stolen itemsi watched you drop your common bootsand your starting short swordand a torch, unlit
i watched you pick up the legendary axea legendary, two-handed axewhich you are not permitted to usegiven your singled-minded focus on luck and charismaand frankly game-breaking ignorance ofstrength and endurance
the legendary two-handed axerightfully mine but a burden to youyour movement is minus twothe party is only as fast as the slowest mover(you. you. you!)—i didn’t mean to criticizeno, i thinkthe way you lootbreaks all of my rulesplease don’t leave my virtual hellscape
― z_tbd, Sunday, 15 December 2024 22:12 (one month ago) link
artly becausethe spotted circle shirtthick mustache drooping down and talking of leaves, missing leavesdouble sharpened penciltwirls on the thumb
his seat is a waterslidewith five legs in 2.3d
teetering notetaker brings his kneesclose to the noseway up on the workstationposture strictly aligned along the y-axisand an expressionless stare
fish eye lens warps the negative spacewhen asked to speak… tapestry
― z_tbd, Monday, 23 December 2024 19:04 (one month ago) link
No more bullshitNot here for what I’m here for
― calstars, Sunday, 5 January 2025 20:43 (one month ago) link
leave your dreamsas of this late era date, [current date],writing complete sentences felt impossible, but it had to be done. compromises were to be expected. we understood them to be necessary to create documents of submission, a submission to a zine which demanded conformity to a certain set of written and electronic standards. we say to ourselves that we don’t have any rules…no rules except for these. the rules for submitting to A Moment Zine. 2025. winter 2025, a time of great–ding—my bullshit photoshop monthly subscription is going from 10 dollars to 15–creative cloud my ass–sorry, i forgot what i was doing, it’s a good thing, because i need to focus! starting here: in the tortoise and the hare, i am the hare. down to the ears. on a tarot card, i am the fool. but the fool’s not bad at all! proud fools! they get where they’re going fast and take a nap. and do they take it slow? and is that where they wanna go?and way down in kokomo, yes we all know, but no! the tortoise goes as slow as it wants, and i can sprint down the path if i want, and i can take a nap if i want, and i probably will. the beginning of the journey is often the best. nice and fresh. well rested. hometown theme music plays on a mini-kalimba. please, join me in reciting “I am a Little Painter”: 🎶(open book to near the beginning)…though who is to say i could not try writing in complete sentences, or at least make moves in that direction? And while I’m at it, I could think about doing some capitalizing and modestly punctuating, too. I should pick a tense and stick with it. “Perhaps the past”, he said, “no, let us be present”, I said, “and while we’re at it, let’s use a consistent perspective as well”, we said.“Not ‘we said’, ‘I said’”, I said. “And I say.”Surely these inconsistencies can be ironed out by the editing team before it hits the zine press: Imagine my punctuation, this very sentence, perfect, more or less! And my grammar as well! Imagine I kept up the good punctuation and grammar until its quality, the lack of cracks in its tall and long walls, came to be expected and unnotable. Dependability. Reliability.This is how truck commercial narratives get written.And then, on top of that, if my words were reliably introducing new and interesting points, little things to think about, morsels, and dishing them out at a good pace - nice and steady but with enough space left between each fresh tidbit to cause audible deviations in the septum, the one with the whistling nasal passages, the hmph!(close book)I wish I could share more, but that was a limited, exclusive excerpt from the introduction of my sensorial memoir, Sounds from the Big Nose: Early Years. However, I can share some of the early reactions that I’ve received, which will be printed on the back of the book:(slowly skimming through the blurbs with a pained expression)a lot of these are rather indirect. but i like this one:–the written word, spoken out loud, there’s nothing like it!Right? *long sip of beverage* Ahhh!(refreshed seltzer lips)And what a lovely crowd!And what an excellent ceiling. Or maybe there is no ceiling, here.It really depends on where this is read, and if this is read.In one version, one of many possibilitiesYou say “what…?”, in this one I say What…an excellent area to look at, up there!(While your eyes search for an area of excellence to look at up there, I introduce the theme from the thrilling soap opera “Kitchen Situations: Justice Hour”, where every episode must end on a cliffhanger)now that the dishes are all cleannest of four pans elephant on its side might beplastic figuringthe reflections of a mirrorcloser than they appearwonder who watches who is inside the negative space which shows the way into the kitchen where the dishes are never done and can anything ever befinished in an all night dinerin this all night diner?find out next time on:Kitchen Situations : Justice Hour :: Leave Your Dreams: Invitation to LoveYou had to be there, but you almost always have to be there. And now we can’t, even if we once were there, even if we once did. I write as if you were here, I speak as if there is a you or you all there, listening, but it starts as a voice speaking to itself in the place others can’t hear. Who was it for, if for none of the above. All for none, none for all! and plenty of time and patience left over for this evening, or morning
as of this late era date, [current date],
writing complete sentences felt impossible, but it had to be done. compromises were to be expected. we understood them to be necessary to create documents of submission, a submission to a zine which demanded conformity to a certain set of written and electronic standards. we say to ourselves that we don’t have any rules…no rules except for these. the rules for submitting to A Moment Zine. 2025. winter 2025, a time of great–
ding—my bullshit photoshop monthly subscription is going from 10 dollars to 15–creative cloud my ass–
sorry, i forgot what i was doing, it’s a good thing, because i need to focus! starting here:
in the tortoise and the hare, i am the hare. down to the ears. on a tarot card, i am the fool. but the fool’s not bad at all! proud fools! they get where they’re going fast and take a nap. and do they take it slow? and is that where they wanna go?and way down in kokomo, yes we all know, but no! the tortoise goes as slow as it wants, and i can sprint down the path if i want, and i can take a nap if i want, and i probably will.
the beginning of the journey is often the best. nice and fresh. well rested. hometown theme music plays on a mini-kalimba.
please, join me in reciting “I am a Little Painter”: 🎶
(open book to near the beginning)
…though who is to say i could not try writing in complete sentences, or at least make moves in that direction? And while I’m at it, I could think about doing some capitalizing and modestly punctuating, too. I should pick a tense and stick with it. “Perhaps the past”, he said, “no, let us be present”, I said, “and while we’re at it, let’s use a consistent perspective as well”, we said.
“Not ‘we said’, ‘I said’”, I said. “And I say.”
Surely these inconsistencies can be ironed out by the editing team before it hits the zine press: Imagine my punctuation, this very sentence, perfect, more or less! And my grammar as well! Imagine I kept up the good punctuation and grammar until its quality, the lack of cracks in its tall and long walls, came to be expected and unnotable. Dependability. Reliability.This is how truck commercial narratives get written.And then, on top of that, if my words were reliably introducing new and interesting points, little things to think about, morsels, and dishing them out at a good pace - nice and steady but with enough space left between each fresh tidbit to cause audible deviations in the septum, the one with the whistling nasal passages, the hmph!
(close book)I wish I could share more, but that was a limited, exclusive excerpt from the introduction of my sensorial memoir, Sounds from the Big Nose: Early Years. However, I can share some of the early reactions that I’ve received, which will be printed on the back of the book:
(slowly skimming through the blurbs with a pained expression)
a lot of these are rather indirect. but i like this one:
–the written word, spoken out loud, there’s nothing like it!Right? *long sip of beverage* Ahhh!(refreshed seltzer lips)And what a lovely crowd!And what an excellent ceiling. Or maybe there is no ceiling, here.It really depends on where this is read, and if this is read.In one version, one of many possibilitiesYou say “what…?”, in this one I say What…an excellent area to look at, up there!
(While your eyes search for an area of excellence to look at up there, I introduce the theme from the thrilling soap opera “Kitchen Situations: Justice Hour”, where every episode must end on a cliffhanger)
now that the dishes are all cleannest of four pans elephant on its side might beplastic figuringthe reflections of a mirrorcloser than they appearwonder who watches who is inside the negative space which shows the way into the kitchen where the dishes are never done and can anything ever befinished in an all night dinerin this all night diner?find out next time on:
Kitchen Situations : Justice Hour :: Leave Your Dreams: Invitation to Love
You had to be there, but you almost always have to be there. And now we can’t, even if we once were there, even if we once did. I write as if you were here, I speak as if there is a you or you all there, listening, but it starts as a voice speaking to itself in the place others can’t hear. Who was it for, if for none of the above. All for none, none for all! and plenty of time and patience left over for this evening, or morning
― z_tbd, Thursday, 9 January 2025 18:53 (one month ago) link
The day I bought Katy liedDogs were humping my legAnd children were running around the bar
― calstars, Saturday, 25 January 2025 19:44 (two weeks ago) link