poems

18 November 2013

What, baby?

Nothing.
Just Looking.
Your mouth's a bad heart.

16 November 2013

#29: Candy Poem

"Sweets" redirects here. For other uses, see "Sweets (disambiguation)."
"Sweetmeat" redirects here. For the racehorse, see "Sweetmeat (horse)."
Not to be confused with Sweetbread.

Confectionery refers to the art of creating sugar based dessert forms,
or subtleties. From Old French... origin Latin... con-ficere, "to put together."
List of Western types includes caramels, chocolate, hard candies, licorice,
lollipops (named after inventor's favorite race horse), penny candy, and sours.

Divinity, fudge, marshmallow, marzipan, and taffy are examples of others.
Red Vines, Black Licorice, and Stupid Whips were forms of old-world licorice.
Also brittle and black strap molasses and Abba-Zaba bars, which can be found
exclusively west of the Rockies, almost.

Last point: United States military chocolate, half morale, half energy.
Troops called the D ration "Hitler's Secret Weapon" for its effects
on soldiers' intestinal tracts. Hershey slightly improved these with artificial vanilla.

#28: Brooklyn Bridges

The day I walked from Bath Beach to the Verrazano-Narrows
Bridge was very hot. I was with a college friend.
He was newly enrolled in a second year of more schooling,
and gave me his opinions. We passed runners and young boys
in Hasidic dress and old women in rough neutral fabrics,
looking like wood and sand lodged among the endless steel curve.
(Our path there was a stone back inlaid with a train-rail spine.)
It was the first week of September, where there'd been several
important birthdays to remind of and to admire. One's
a body I love whose masseter twitches. He is lean like a model,
aggressively focused, milky. I buy him halvah embedded
with pistachio at the shop where I pick up wine after work,
$10.99 a pound. "Halva," almost always parve in Israel,
being merely Arabic for sweet.

#27: The Verrazano-Narrows

I will wear wet hair out, and punctuate,
and scratch scalp and eventually communicate
through flight and flight's bindings.
"You're an occurrence, not mine."
"I had apologized in that." I adjust
the fake light to the frequency. I was in
the wet, remembering what other people do.
I pored over the indecision, spanning it.

Temptation above and below, verticality's amoral.
Here, nobody sent anything in flames so
between negation and particularity
the bridges won: the Golden Gate, the Bay,
the Verrazano-Narrows with its sparkling.
These hold up in photos their public snap in
hot trances, the last carries twelve lanes & crosses
the Narrows with a clearance of 228 feet
at mean high water.
There is toll westbound only.

13 November 2013

I'm also. And I can't seem to you.

what-would-i-say.com lines

Heightened sense of a good thing
Frats on game and I might be great
Was my Riviera love, peering at the old lady dropped it.
Living is asleep in DISAGREEMENT THERE. I have to say
funny stuff
And the poem the Chronic and our BART on the back to Berk
It's just a girl's body. Wednesday: April 6 home
People keep you
NOLA one and only one because she says / lying through Season One
You were just silent after he had a video I can really
awoke to this
I'm not that 'transgressive' is a genius... I would walk out on that
is a Mexican is FRENCH
And his lyrics, stating I saw Claire's. When are you
We should graduate early and I stole my mom
that's the opposite of hungry right
that's London, and i'm
That was correct.
Keith's what's on shuffle on Shattuck
Sort of a few minutes my fingers felt like
don't hurt Marilyn, to tell
glasses raised to the difference, though, really?
Strong words make things which aren't; though if
You were still breathing, next one
BUT I am incomplete. None can almost feel
I just saying
he said it
is a favorite drink of which listening is a very singular one
I just I can manage, remember to have plans
don't be a very pretty dance, said to Marcus Aurelius IT'S UP
as you had been
will memorize before it's not one
indolently. in an amazing vacation & co.
I'm also raise their hand in a good at sleeping
has a nice long talk about
And the Thames.

Wait wait, On such legs as it
I got sick, was reminded of me
as you paint it, just imagine it, three seconds before you
I have flown, I probably would walk out with a Friday.
you are perfect, you
how many times can you
Went & set in the largest ocean on a houseboat?
but. genius I'm just really
ilk ea with earl
You deserved an addendum on shuffle on the Male Gaze
You deserved an artist
I'm also taking off her Norton Anthology and the Internet, but it's very separate from an amazing vacation and Goyle. And... are?
gasps Maybe seven years of good idea
this is just too many times can you
Look at this
Formula A lady with my clothes again
All my honey and C/Lucy has her coffee simultaneously
Lethargic and a video I put together of me
i'm free in two days. maybe.
Now contemplating taking a sound for
But I have a squeeze of the Golden Gate, and Emma Watson's like
how we're going to the semester
listening to the tone of normity in the laundry room, it's pouring in need
I feel about
This is her in a hoodie and iced champagne? I can't rap about
berkeley kids whose concert is over
People keep you
all the fact that notion recently?
only yesterday, steve, did I learn the devil days of my bigger fears.
no, but he Muir wouldn't let me
Anonymous May 2 weeks, but budget cuts necessitated a girl's body. Marilyn.
My correction works, must wait a minute.
I was talking to calm down
You deserved an umbrella



"what would i say?" automatically generates Facebook posts that sound like you! Technically speaking, it trains a Markov Bot based on mixture model of bigram and unigram probabilities derived from your past post history.

12 November 2013

Nonpoem

There is nothing that wins a heart over like deification, and nothing that beats
it like that. The next move avoids the that. I self-distract.
i'm not writing today. i haven't written in a lot of days, like since coming up to berkeley, so four weeks or so. not that i wrote in san diego either, or my final semester at cal. but at least i tried? or more than recently. i don't feel like it. my neck is crunched. my hair feels bad. my lower back is going in anticipation of a few days from now. my nails are at their ragged painful lowest (esp right thumb, middles, rings. ruining left as i speak). feel crummy and shitty. pop music in this cafe. "yeah, i'm getting kinda hungry." tense and mean from papers. cold and inhuman, but humanly petty. how then is the sex so good? now contorting his fingers and staring at the ground talking to himself. nothing bothering me especially except the nail situation. hurts and is hideous. lean man, blue puffy vest, hair dyed pink, sets his backpack down and orders a sandwich. three women set up scrabble. belladonna, lady of the rocks, lady incapable of describing or making anything but recreated situations. and stale allusions, and self-hatred. and a pulsing in the right upper arm indicative of atrophying muscle. and that repronounced pain in the lower back. "i'm raising the white flag." like streamers off a wheel. "i like the idea of the moffit cubicle. but we don't have to. i'll start packing up?"