Sunday, December 31, 2006

I was born
But a year before time travel with flux capacitors
Shit I even spelled that right

And all the pop in my veins
All the culture spread before me
Like a neo-hippy and her tie-dye yesteryear blanket

But do hope to weave something new

Saturday, December 30, 2006

creating addiction

could use a shower
or just a warm hand
to dance on with
there’s musiclife and nights
smoke and booze whispers
whipping through these lungs
down the back of this throat
tickles, like busy fingers
exploring new skin
creating addiction

Of Privilege and Pensiveness

you smile wide in comfort
without a worry in yer veins
jaded in your brilliance
and security

this smiles wide always
through my trials
through my pain
through every fall or stumble
and each days impairing break

I would like to show you
I'’d like to give you back your sight
I'’d like to take away your affluence
and show you what it's like
to smile like you mean it
when it's hard to stand and fight
to hold your head above the water
to truly feel the light

Friday, December 29, 2006


just a metalic green pool
copper scent echoes
not even empty
as the sun and the atmosphere make the perfect liquid
metalic green copper scent echoes

so some Confederate, he
goes for a swim,
throws his coat up against
a pin oak,
slides in,

dip a cup into the pool
you can take it with you
make it
in incriments

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

i'll be america
you be a naked body

the headlights
careening through night
down a highway
and me
feeling more holy and metallic
in the drunken
bad decision moment
the road stumbles beneath
and the trembling planet

hey jack,
where'd you while
all yer crazy christmas's
on rushing boxcars
wind blown and drunk,
at mom's
clutchin a bottle of mad dog
with one or two
of your crazy haired friends
passin through florida,
in all the new yorks
and san franciscos
and all the in betweens
of this poor crying beat down
desolate railroad earth

so far
from four naked feet
and that sea
of cool marble

and so many lines
these fingers
starved and broken
miles and miles
women and bottles
storms and stories

somewhere in someone elses
of a new year's miami
a man i don't like
so much
"there's no book deal"
down an alley littered
with homeless

so far
from four naked feet
and that sea
of cool marble
i think i feel him yelling it,
at me

christmas gifts
with foil wrapping
children's wide eyes
my empty echoing pockets

but its not so cold this year
and the drafts of this house
are less
then usual

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Twisted in the Heart

With vestigial eyes and a smile worth diamonds
Your fervour climbed over me

He says

Maybe I forgot the winter of your worth

Maybe I was the last chance you had to feel summer

I prefer the fall


I clung to the idea that the bottom pieces hidden by the ones on top were somehow redeeming

'Let them preach', I said

Adorable as it was, your truculant backstage persona was rentable at best

Like the precious little noose you wore tucked behind a velvet vest

Post mortem whispers in our dirty little dungeon where pungent lust was our only stall



First scar I feel tonight

Joshua Fink

Friday, December 22, 2006

How'd he get my address anyway

The monk who invented champagne
Who knew all the bubbles
By their separate names
And would call them
One by one
In his sleep
Had dreams of the opals and diamonds
He stole from the sky
To put in his drink
And kept in his journal
Each dream that he had
And handed it down straight to me

Now when I sleep
With champagne on my breath
I toss and I turn
And diamonds poke at my sides
And opals blind my closed eyes
And I hope that old monk f-in’ burns

Coulda been my home too

Those slowed down some bodies
Exchange old stories
And there’s no way to capture
Their easy laughter
Not even in poetry
So I say let them keep it
In their little place
In a space they now own
For ever theirs
And leave them alone

Identity theft

I know who I am

And I don’t need a number or a card or anything

I know the names of my pets and the natural color of my hair

I know how many people I fucked and how many I wish I fucked

I know who I am

I know that I don’t know the capitols of all the states

I also know how little I care

I know all the drugs I’ve done and all the drugs I’d wish I’d done

I know who I am

And so when everyone is yelling’

‘Bout what a fucking stupid bitch I am

For losing my identity

And canceling all my credit cards

And my license to drive a car

I can smile and say

I know who I am


I also know

You fuckers know who I am

But you don’t have a fucking clue

About who you are

Thursday, December 21, 2006

giant upside-down planarian shaped spaceships
the mammary glands of underwater creatures
the pharoahs of ancient egypt
milk, bread and orange juice
feliz navidad

Monday, December 18, 2006

they say that in
the begining, there were angels

well I see angels exhaling their
souls like cigarette clouds

and soaking the strobes of sun
dripping onto the road

so tell me where things have changed

I say it's still the begining

Thursday, December 14, 2006

i find myself wonderin'
wether or not
i could play
angel halos
like wine glasses
runnin my finger around the rim
to make them hum
and sing
and if it would sound

brant ducks bobbing
tail uo
for fish
in shallow water
among the ripples
they make

life is a muse
the way light
on infinite things
and they appear
to dance
at all moments
just the budhist illusion
singing and swaying
heat above the road

the way this old cars parked
got her nose pointin straight
into bright blue empty infinite

and the thought runs through
that if i floor it in low gear
just maybe she might clear
that taunting immaculate horizon

wash away all the sins and pains
with cloudstuff amongst jetstream
shake hands with angels
before crashing down

gypsy dreams

ashes to ashes
lust to lust

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

for the ferry man to take her home

I should probably stop walking around the disfigurement they'’ve left you in
it'’s just the way your left arm'’s been twisted with the elbow facing inward
how your fingertips come to rest on the bruising around your neck and
the angles your hair is strewn about under the fractured lighting in this old warehouse
You are so damn beautiful the way your glass eyes stare
like living life was no more than moments caught by and thrown back through
a broken windows glare
One can only imagine the thoughts you recalled in that knife blinding instant the floor met with your fall how deserted your china white frame lies tangled within the rotting wood soaked and seeping with your blood
I only wish I could have know your touch when it was warm not like the frigid skin that currently adorns this dismal gray structure I've come to call
Dear broken beauty in these moments I cry that this worn out ol'’ leper replace your face where it lies that these slumped over shoulders bare the weight of Deaths cloak that my bare tumbled feet could take your place on his boat but you are motionless still and I am still somewhat alive so I'll turn to my streets and pray the fortune of passer-bys remembering your elegance while I collect coins to cover your eyes


cold and silent
and grey paint flecks,
and the lost
dusting the
shimmering trail
birds of prey
hiding within
the sun
and carving
into slivers
and light
into shards

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Chills and Well Wishes

your tone sounds
the bitter sting of winters wind
you breathe about indifference
distant like destinations end

surely the gawking gaggle
of petty footed illiberal fools
heard rumor of dear friends departure
and are ecstatic with the news

there is no intent to hurt or mar
no underlying threat
just the need to keep in touch
with all of life’s movement

so I step aside and carry on
your imprint in my heart
but I will not stay here watching you
break yourself apart

now asking nothing from you
just love and betterment
of yourself and to live your life
without a single regret

Saturday, December 09, 2006

absent- but not gone
my brain rambles
socially withdrawn
don't feel igored
or call me stupid
Just get my attention,
bring my brain to the present
this is where it's at
because here with you
these thaughts won't stew
though times were great
the past is gray
I'll fill the blanks
another day

Thursday, December 07, 2006

memo from the desk of starchy mcwhiteguy

nude models working in the glass ceiling sky rise
take another page from the book on tantric ogling
elementary navigation and i'm on my way out just this
ring motherfuckr, or i'm coming to borrow cups and cups of diabetic chocolate sause
meanwhile, several stories bellow

old bum whistles while he washes the stockbroker out of your windshield and i rainbow studden lesbian holds my hand skipping hungry and to think i almost stayed in bed

back in the office...

stubborn ole jack of 2 trades keeps begging for new staplers and his cubicle is too drafty i don't wanna fire the owners nephew but his ties aren't even funny with out the shoes i told him not to wear baring casual friday....

secret secretarial blowjobs make the best stoking stuffers and the egg nog at the holiday office fun fuck fling always guarentees a present to be named on the copy machine...which is also out of toner

outside fall and almost winter my lesbian barbie doll bought me a sandwhich and i read here dickens casue i knew she wouldn't be into it...

someone baked a pie which no one does anymore but to leave your wife for a secondhand gym shorts hooligan girlfrined what a fabulous way to say i'm going jogging in the rain

and most assuredly, you are fired

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

for my or maybe your... you know

seldom kiss between the meanings
collecting faces and rarely breathing
cutting pieces from your memory
leaving home to pursue your enemies
i'm locking all this from my favor
dying to fall upon old behavior
casting stones at won't be saviours
lying down upon the railroads
looking for a love called salvage
damage goods in shrink wrapped packages
cut my face from pictures loneliness
bedding down with paperback romance
treading water and finding rosencrance
strumming rotten five string instuments
to tell the truth i've just been impotent
masturbate to my friend syphillus
typhoid promises hacking coughin fits
i found the exit procedure bothersome
stick around till i find anyone
to solve this puzzle and my rubix cube
to be quite honest i can' find the tube
theres idiots in that box
i'm damn near out of clocks
and radio plays disco sonet rock
has any of this penetrated your box
of unclaimed personal effects
and by the time that your through reading this
is the top of the bottom any more romantic
when you can't find a flashlight to keep a promise
to the next time you'll be out of tissues
which of my freinds should i use
and to make it simple if forgotten
but i ripped my pants and swallowed buttons
now forgive my nevermind that last part
i am sure that i could believe in...

...must have fallen overboard
is there a name that maybe i could afford
just relay this criptic message
while i bask in winters undue suffrage

Monday, December 04, 2006

the golden sky
split and crushed
down upon us
with the dreams
and murders of old dreams
sparkling in our eyes

our hands wrinkled with
futures and truths
and the blind lies
and hubris
litened to by the blessed

and the tears in
the afterglow
reflected whispers of god

the light that
breaks and shows
at dawn
in holy holy
oneness waters
all around
this glow
this glow
this glow

breaks and shows
for us

their blessed ruins
in this horizon
for the souls
that seek beyond
and theirs
beyond truth or
in the midnight dreamings
show everything

stepped in mud once

you can tell him he’s won
the girls broken heart
and all the lost pieces
that have fallen off

because loving you
just feeds the fire more wood

you’ve got your blankets
a tent and a tarp
that’s too small to keep
the rain from her heart

just place her among all rest
of your forgotten memories

for every door you've ever closed and all the ones you never opened

i've envisioned your face
placed violently between
floorboards and rage
neglect of time spent
wasted and waste

maybe one day you’ll open you’re eyes

begging without knees

you’re my morning after hell
another taste of addiction
but harder to kick than
the ones shredded like ribbons
into my skin and
you’re right I can hate
the waste of you
dripping down my throat
making me choke
on memories hard
like liquor and smiles
more alive than
the bed you lay in
silently fading