it never fails

i am learning how to hunt tigers.

in good weather we venture out
into the jungle
and hang our bloodied shirts
from vines;

then we sit below them
in meditative states
and calmly call
for lions instead.

I am

An artist and an animal
Rational and banal
See through and thick
Atoms and bricks

Laughable and undecided
Unemployed and laughable
Tied down and tied up
hung and hanged
hanged by the hung, hard
constitution

Tropical industrialism
saturated calcium
Trans fatted metropolitan
stone, stone, stone
crumbled
tank toppled

WMD
Hair salons & action movies
Medium mediated by bigger medias
Manufactured cattle
by Corporate Livestock (Inc.)

A deep hole (hope),
rounded & shameless
a vacuum abhorred
Torn up, torn down
a rough draft,
In- grown nails
A personified television
A hypnotized hypnotist

Untitled

I'm just posting this casually. Comment if you want, I'm not expecting any. It's in the same vein as "The Bus to Sofia", I always go back to the backpacking for some reason, it must be a metaphor for life.

Moving from one interlocutor to another, from one drink to another, drunker and drunker, Will is on a rooftop terrace in the old part of Istanbul contemplating the remains of past Empires, destroyed or forgotten, lies and whispers in their wake like trails of dust, scattered pieces of history you can sometimes feel in the hot bosphorus breeze, heavy with the smell of ages, the thick scent of sweat and centuries, the toil of men, warm blood. Above him, above them, is the dark grey dome of urban night, infinitely open, distant, extending out on all sides, and yet close, so close you feel you can extend your hand and graze its soft, suede-like inside with the tip of your fingers. It provides them with a sensation of intimacy, encloses all these youths on their roof, envelops their intricate social mess with exotic elegance, a dull tapestry of blurred sky.

Will breathes in the seasick breeze, lungs extending out to catch the oxygen, coughs out city pollution and water-pipe smoke, swallows long, tepid drafts of weak beer. He is content enough. The conversations around him seem dimmed out and caricatured: stories prolonged beyond their climaxes, opinions too vehemently defended to be heartfelt, drunken slurs of joy or dismay. It all rings out so clear and joyful, at first, then falls dreadfully flat.

Will washes up on a sofa like a drunken sailor staggers into a brothel.

Kathy joins him.

Kathy is Paul’s boyfriend.

Paul is Will’s best friend.

Paul is not in Istanbul.

Kathy, blissfully inebriated, ushers Will closer and spreads her fingers through his ruffled, blond hair. Will feels a telling tightness in his briefs. In a tantalizing what-if mind play he imagines Kathy naked underneath him, against him. He sees himself and feels himself inside her, knows he wants to have sex with her, now knows he will as Kathy’s hands wraps around his neck and pulls his face towards hers. Their noses bump lightly, their mouths collide. Kathy’s mouth is hot, deep and wet, which makes Will aware of his, dry and pasty. Their tongues meet, slop against each other lazily like saluting slugs, retract into their respective caves. The mouths separate (he can almost hear the smack) and thick air floods back into Will’s throat.

Kathy’s eyes are smoldering.

“Will, where are we?”

“We’re on a rooftop, Kathy.”

“What the hell are we doing on a rooftop in this godforsaken place?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Keep me company will you.”

He doesn’t say it, but he thinks: yes. Yes I will keep you company I am here I am there for you do with me all you want I am taunt like a bow pull me play me play with me I don’t care do what you want with me yes yes.

She draws him to her again.

Creationism

(first thing I've written in a while)


There are holes on both sides of your neck
and when you breathe I hear you echo.
I couldn't bring myself to ask you what happened
and honestly, I probably don't want to know.
It was most likely a traumatic accccident
that left you with gaps below your ears
and I think the fact that you don't mention it
is brave and strange at the same time.

I wouldn't know where to stab you
if I ever got that mad.
And if you keep running around with a smile
then it can't be all that bad.

Do you feel the birds screeching at you
as they flap hastily away?
They'll come close to you someday.
They'll warm up to you someday.

forgetting

You’ll forget me
Like the colours of the autumn leaves
Like the smell of the rain and
The sound of wind through the trees

You’ll forget me
With the change of season
Change of pace and scenery
You won’t notice I’m missing

But that cold winter's day
When you’re wishing for sunshowers
You’ll think of those days spent together
And that’s when you’ll remember me

Here Lies HeartRapeClub

May it rest in peace.
We all felt this coming, right? (That's what she said.)
I mean, there's been lack of constant activity for a long time.
I don't know what else to say
Besides "it's been fun" or "hey, let's pretend it just started again".


I miss you all.

I'm sure a meeting will bring us back.


(This isn't a piece. It's gotten to the point where I don't think I want to post for a bit because of HRC being pretty much inactive.

Love)

I Will Do No Harm

(still working on more chapters. it's going to be awesome...hopefully)

I never understood why
trees got all the attention.
Grass is just as good,
but I can't chain myself
to the ground to
keep the lawnmower
from decapitating them.

My friends tell me that
there's just way too much
grass in the world to save
and that "besides"
it's like they're just getting
haircuts.

I never liked getting haircuts.
For some reason,
this idea felt worse to me.

The Obvious

Oh, I have dreamed this streed a thousand ways--
yet some things must remain.
The inevitable sidewalks,
the constancy of that little cafe
by the hardware store,
the absence of any escaping cars
cement it in my mind
no matter the angle of its view,
the speed or meter of its recitation.

And then the obvious:
no matter the time or season
no matter the extrerior emotion
you are always there,
sitting cross-legged at the cafe table
with the disapproving look that tells me I am late
or else have not understood
the time of my coming.

If I Lived Alone

(I will continue to post the rest of My Useless Memory at Work when I write more. I will repost the first chapter with edits eventually. but for now, some stream work...)

I watched a spider.
It recognized itself in the mirror.
It felt theatened
and tried to go around its reflection.
It failed.
I crushed it with tissues.

The only reason I kill these creatures
is so I won't be woken up by
my brother's fear-stricken scream
when the spider is discovered.
It would then be crushed.

Is it better to be killed
with foresight in mind or
to be killed
out of fear?

Telephone Dialogue

This will be my last post for a short while. I'm currently working on a longer piece comprised of some of my major short stories (since a lot of them have similar tones). My goal is to edit and re-write them to form a short novel or a long novella. The tentative title is "Five Girlfriends and a Lover". I doubt that this novel/novella will actually happen due to the excess my brain has (thus far) been tolerating this summer. Anyway.


J: But you have to tell me, are you waiting because you want this, or are you just waiting for this to end?..
J: I don't know
J: I just wanna talk a little.
J: Mhm.
J: What are you typing?
J: Everything
J: No
...
J: Yeah
J: What are you saying, can you tell me?
J: I'm saying everything
J: What are you writing?
J: Everything
J: What does is start with?
J: It starts with, "But you have to tell me, are you waiting because you want this, or are you just waiting for this to end?.."
J: So whats the answer?
J: I don't know
J: So 'I don't know' means you're waiting for this to end.
J: ...
J: I think that we're more afraid to not be with each other. I think that's the problem. Are you listening, Jordano? Hello.
J: I think so too.
J: Ya eh? Do you think it would be better if we went together?
J: What do you mean?
J: Do you think that we'd be better off not together.
J: That's not what you had initially asked.
J: How do you know that?
J: Well now that I'm editing our dialogue to post on the blog, it seems like you actually asked something completely different before I had asked you what you meant by your question.
J: Just answer the question.
J: Which one?
J: Any one.
J: I don't know. I don't know anything. We just gotta' wait.
J: For what?
J: To wait and see if I'm crazy.
J: No. I don't want to wait for this to end, for you to make your decision. I don't want it to end badly, it's gonna drive me crazy, babe. I don't wanna wait for it.
J: I don't wanna make a decision.
J: I don't want us to be unhappy and wait for this to end.
J: Then what do we want?
J: I just... I want us to always be happy, and I want to be myself and not question things. I hate questioning things.
J: It's just so tiring, everything's so tiring.
J: Our relationship?
J: No, everything.