There is a black vein
that runs from
the back of her hand
to the bottom
of her heart and back again

This is not spam.

Day is
peeking
through
the curtains.
My eyes
are drawn
to her light;
I long to be in her arms.

i've spent my time pulling worms from the earth
in a place where time does not exist
& planes look like falling stars
the softest sound crossed her lips
barely audible & to the tune of this,
"You must leave this place. You must go far."

she almost lets me think i can sleep with her

as the sky was dying
slowly
behind her head
and alien eyes
the words
ill and hood and kaballah
spilled out of her mouth
pushed out by her wanderin
tongue
she was surrounded
by tulips and chrysathymums
and never asher her
borrowed
cigarettes
just
let the used up potential
hang there in the
city night
above some spanish
speaking softball game
in bushwick
in the anticipation of gunshots
with cops and their loud urgent
radios
pacing on the corner
she had been a daytime tv
actress
she had been in a car
crossing america
she had been crying
she had been three bottles deep
at some exclusive parties
sometimes before now
on this balcony
in these flowers
under this halfhearted moon
in this lonliest of cities
in her own infinite abyss
wanting one perfect
wahoo moment
and now in her loose
fitting shirt and
occassional cocaine
haze
beth was
a new
mixture
of sadness and peace

Mike Didia Live Painting w/ Entelechy

Check out a photo that Entelechy was tagged in on MySpace

Shared via AddThis

I always see the city against the crisp sky
which means it's never just the city itself,
only it's role as foreground
while the world spins drunkenly
towards the morning's glow.

After Seeing a sign on a Wheelbarrow Wheel that said, "Not Intended for Highway Use"

I had turned my wheelbarrow into a motorized vehicle
I was embarrassed of its clunkyness
and only drove in the back woods of Jackson at first
down Devils Hill where the kids
went sledding in the winter.

When I took it out on the real road to get some coffee
at a Wawa, people stared.
They didn't know what to make of me traveling 35 mph
fuzzy dice hanging off
one handle a nice smelling tree hanging off the other.

I use a metal rake to stop myself and flower pots
for cup holders
Instead of flipping someone the finger I throw
a shovel from
the back seat. The wheel says "not intended

for highway use" but I gotta get to Pennsylvania
or the outer banks
and I've grown so used to traveling by garden
equipment its the only
way I know how

Usually when I wake up
I must swat the sleep from around my head
And stagger through this odd house
It always smells like burning cinnamon

I limp into the kitchen
Careful not to crush my animals
With my big, dumb, pre-coffee feet
Small birds chirp outside in a tree
They sound like a Geiger Counter

I stare at my bookcase
Cringing at how boring half must be
And how cheap the rest probably are
My eyes burn and twitch and squint
And my breath tastes like sour milk

TV sucks this early
When your to broke to call in
I try to stare through the wall
At the bed I can't stay asleep in
The sandman slammed the door on his way out

FUCK MACHINE

I hate my fat jiggling gut
It need be hard, chiseled,
Fashioned like Fuck Machine

Fuck Machine back from shop
It runs on Gin & Tonic
Runs on Rhythm & Blues

Gears and bones churning hot
Fuck Machine grunt like animal
Crickets applaud from window

fortune cookie

"A dream is just a dream. A goal is a dream with a plan and a deadline."

We were eating burnt chicken
Sitting in the 'art gallery'
with gin running through our veins

She said,
I want to buy a farm
with goats and cows
and crazy poets

I told her I'd go with her,
And live with there with the goats,
The cows and the crazy poets.
I'm still waiting for her phone call.

Some nights I’m the air
slightly turbulent
near yr wings

Some nights I’m blue air currents
hanging
silently waiting for motion

party crowd surrounds her
yet she is alone
sitting on the padio,
watching the fireflies
light up the sky
and she only hopes
her beautiful light she shines
will bring that someone special
close to her side

It's not quiet here.
The garbage men come early
4am-ish I suppose
the night clubs and strip clubs and pizza joints and porn shops rumble and buzz in neon nylon stocking night caps
the saloon and it's alley of old whores and shoeshines, toothless grins and tongue flicks
"Come on baby shake it swish it swing it, come baby one more time, oh yeah! Hot damn, gimmie one more! Baby one more!"
Someone screams through a trumpet
kicks a boot, stamps out a cigarette
cursing about quitting for the twelfth time that night
greased up marina punks stumble and lunge
swerving circles misplaced footsteps
steady now down romolo hill
just enough to break pace
and hurl or urinate
(I always cringed when you'd piss in doorways)
Someone fights in the street on or off the phone
or with themselves
the cops are kept busy,
their lights and sirens dance on walls and ping through party murmur
Someones bass is always blowing out a speaker....
Morning doves
Seagulls
Cars trucks and buses
Can ladies
Poets jacked on caffeine and fucking nicotine and thought and bullshit
and maybe a banana nut muffin
and sleep deprivation
Foreign tourists or students piled in hostels
speaking tongues
and I'm wondering if I could learn a language in my sleep
...if it ever comes.

The purest thoughts, and the most dangerous thoughts, occur entwined on the ROAD

Brighton Poetry Read - July 1st

Summer heat, cheap beers, cheaper poets, mark yr calendars, next Brighton reading is July 1st. 10 pm.

To quote of the greatest poets in NJ history, "free your mind, and your ass will follow"

skins exposed accidentally
or almost

green in the periphery
eyes on the road

any weather in the soul
is better than no weather

spring is simply taking its time
this year

The Life of Evil

Forgive me, father for I have lived
I've read evil words
and had evil thoughts
and met evil girls
at evil night spots
I've made evil friends
and helped them stay wicked
I've breathed evil smoke
and drank evil liquid
the evil in my body
has been in evil mouths
I've chosen evil roads
and lascivious routes
I've been to evil parties
and gone on evil trips
I've seen evil films
I've tasted evil lips
so much evil I have done
I doubt you could forgive
but I beg you please forgive me, father
for I have lived

The good

If the good die young
I'll be here a long time
maybe I'll start working a soup kitchen
maybe I'll help reduce the local
sea gull population
antacids pressed into soft pretzels
they won't feel a thing
jobs are scarce lately
perhaps I'll start injuring
gainfully employed seniors
jumpstart some retirement
I could be the one to impregnate
The unsightly women
the ones who'd have no shot otherwise
or start bombing corporate franchises
that put independent business to sleep
NO.
that's just not me
I guess I'm not cut out
to be one of the good ones

It's a rainy afternoon
Hey white boy...
What was that you said?
No I can't explain that
It's Raining all day
Not the sensual rain
The annoying sticky kind
When you've got errands to run

I feel it's breath on my ear
Apocalypse the retarded prince
Naked with teeth gnashing
Sagging testicles & pot bellied
Stupid, feeble minded Apocalypse
Finger pointing in my face
Mumbling something low
Sometimes rain aint romantic

I dreamed I was on a spaceship
Sleeping on the ceiling
Dreaming about being in New Jersey
My cabin mates were sobbing
Everyone's sensitive in space
Not in New Jersey
I hate the rain in New Jersey
Cause it feels like cosmic sludge