Sunday, April 29, 2007

Found Photos: Erins Computer













photos by erin harris mostly. ps. coney island did give me the wrong change!

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

If the world were neon



(deer image stolen from a greeting card)

The Sinking Hip

Volume One: Frontier

the word astronaut
broken in two
means star sailor

so when we fuck
hold me down surround me
so I can feel
possibly
as though only one small cloud of me
is wandering out
above the sky

it will be momentless
I’ll barely notice
we are the stars
and the net

and I

pull the ocean up
over the buildings to keep us
sound

knowing we are already
the channel between



it will be the opposite
of me here

clinging to the
warm wind

to this can of warm Pabst
planted on the bar

I am drifting
weightless turned up and out
no pull

tonight I am a million molecules
evaporating and returning

billowing into the
one am diamond
filled blue

Note 23: I miss Little Again

Peter on Meg Lipke's Paintings



note 22


note: peter

Note 21: Still Feeling Good


note: Lacy's mama to Lacy

Good Morning My Bird

Look We Were Little Sven


Photo: Alix Winsby

Why I Should Stop Doing This

This Makes Me Feel Like I Believe In Something

note 20


rolled up and shoved into the palm of my hand
note: amber (two years ago?)

Monday, April 09, 2007

My Bling and My Bridge

Today the world is either side of snow falling

I’m not looking to change the world
I’m not looking for a new England
I’m just looking for another girl.
-Billy Bragg

I am looking for New England

Lacy says
around the corner is brilliant because
you never say what corner

this is me tossing my voice
into the void

Peter says it’s like they are all pulling on my limbs
and this last one right here this is for my beer

Nico is going to find that Buddhist zen place
I ask him to burn it on a disc for me

then Peter wants to know
if he drinks his beer will he disappear

and we talk about getting shirts made
they would say:

“Imagine fucking me.
Now imagine me fucking you.
Now take that home with you.”

I am changing the world

we are just south of horrible
east of death
and a little north

easter snow and I am in love with the way this goes

Peter and Bird and I are going to move to Spain
And I will work at a bar where people will have to point
at what they want to drink

until I learn Spanish

today is easter
me and lee and rachel and sandy sing Stand By Me
I am a living oblivion

and the street asks me what it is I’m suffering from
and the ladie's carriage says dream on me

I’m not looking for another girl

dream on me make me feel alive
we are the emotional equivalent
of being run over by an ambulance

it feels like shit but then
we’re saved

Afterword

In conclusion, whatever. One is always left with questions when faced with that tragicomic blank remainder on the last page of a book, and so it might be the idea behind a note like this to articulate or even begin to answer at least one of those questions. The bellies and coke motif, for example. But why bother? After Eli's phlegmatic gem or Mary's handshakes with Doom, there seems to be enough love and oblivion implicit to fill a hundred anthologies with empty space. But were not selling diaries; we're selling amongst other things , every manifestation of smut, vice, beauty, and wierdness that Jack Daniels has helped us put into words.

And what is evoked in such a crab nebula of neurosis and fucking? Do we see something interstellar, something stranded in the desert, something careening down Kings Highway at three in the morning in a Mercades M-Class, leftover conquistadors? Or do we rather see spots?

Peter Milne
Novermber 2005, Brooklyn NY

Before and Right After



by Adam Ward

Monday, April 02, 2007

Shuffle On Shuffle Song

(after for with next to Lucille Clifton’s blessing the boats)

I go through the motionless

smoke is flowing through Brooklyn
but people don’t notice because it is the same
color as the sky

I’ve been drinking thinking
about if I could carry your fear around for you


the smoke is heart shaped
but I think I might be the only one who sees
as it escapes into the flat atmosphere

sometimes my heart feels my shape
only centimeters smaller
my skin a useless angel

so when you knock your knuckle into mine
its really like you’re tapping on the pericardium

it contains the root of
all the great vessels


it would be hard but I’d carry it
and when you wanted you could feel it
the fear in doses

and it would make me feel
as though the luminance was constant
and opening up