May 2013
2 posts
3 tags
Boring Newsprint
BLIND COLLABORATION WITH ZACH LP
cut a warm carcass open into space!
I thought this was a t-shirt store but I guess not rough warm sweetness in the dark all this red, white and blue is tacky
fingers pressed into warm salt but I don’t want to talk about America anymore
you fogged up the mirrors months ago. people die. what can you do?
fractured and fuzzy Nixon got pardoned. Maybe there’s hope...
4 tags
More or Less Grinding Downward
BLIND COLLABORATION WITH Zachary LP
Portrait of a girl with hands covered in pollen, Act I
this is the meaning of the evening’s boring struggle my mouth burns with the taste of it! a musk of sorts, all over the pillows, behind the couch, in the rug microscopic organisms don’t care about your jizz.
the sign on the door said open but dirty tablecloths drape your ugly chairs as it is.
I’m...
April 2013
2 posts
3 tags
A Buick Burns Blue
BLIND COLLABORATION WITH ZACHARY LP
I told Mother to “go fuck yourself. fuck Wanderlust.” but I’ve heard brown liquor will kill you twice as fast
Jimmy and I raced out the door. “Leave the power crystal.”
watch! they are all going pink and ruddy in the face. The people here lives are fast! short! Jimmy blew smoke in my hair.
a green star is rising over the state of Arkansas, a miserable ghost the...
second edition of Real Love Poems later this week
I realized I wasn’t actually finished with the project so look forward to like a zillion more things !
January 2013
7 posts
Vineland
[this is an experimental piece based on found text, false translations of English, Icelandic, Old Norse, and Latin, and misheard language.]
you were born on Christmas Day, 1932
throughout the first half of the 20th century, you were involved in the poultry industry, you gave us a a chicken in every pot and an old man razed to the ground with his palace Vineland, Millville and...
6 tags
Anti-Brunch Collective: Manifesto →
zacharylp:
“It is almost too simple, too conciliatory, to take from the start a name predicated on a negation, a simple opposition. Perhaps it were better to espouse full-throatedly a LUNCHISM by which one aims to negate by making disappear, a Yes whose movement supersedes the No we cannot not say in view of those abominable categories whose algebras we reject.
Propaganda as needed, which is...
1 tag
December 2012
8 posts
1 tag
Anthem
I can smell my own blood! Oh my God I can taste my own blood! the majority of the people have not been the Olympic juries but I still can’t draw hands as if I died from the Spanish Flu why can’t I dedicate a life of art and crime to my nipples? kiss me in the demilitarized zone kiss me in the DPRK tonight let them tell you to hold your comrade’s hand and answer a beige princess phone kiss me with...
2 tags
(from Real Love Poems)
To Joanna
how many gin and sodas does it take to consider sex in the public bathroom of a Ukranian social club
she had a body like a wet sandwich and legs like miles of splintered steel
I had a dream that the trains’ horns were an oratorio she recognized in her sleep
when did they start naming winter storms? when was the last time you stored thunder in a jar or poured salt on a doorknob to...
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
2 tags
November 2012
17 posts
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
2 tags
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
July 2012
1 post
1 tag
June 2012
2 posts
1 tag
1 tag
May 2012
7 posts
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
April 2012
57 posts
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
1 tag
