Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Monday, September 9, 2019

all heaven’s hitting high, time (Naked Lunch)

Commissioned by
Patrick
DeVita
-Dillon

They say the days on Tijuana are largely successfully. Jonathan hadn’t had the cat for all. At 2:15 in the morning, he would awanight and acted as if she was always his. He thing. Sometimes it was something as a feeling dreamed) would leave just the same. Jonathan liked the structure of it. She was his and he was hers. So he grabbed a ke to find some asshole doing some asshole her. clawed her way out of his clutches unsu a gang war. That morning, unfortunately, long. She just showed up at his bar one Jonathan could hear the yelps and howls was sure Hope (whom he named afte as suddenly as she came. But for now, gun and went after the man who stole someone was trying to steal his cat. of the man stealing the cat while Hope

he was a fast bastard. Probably high on Red hen you’re chasing someone who doesn’t as being torn asunder by the cat in his hands. when he was a young lad with dreams of Tijuana were winding and tight. It’s easy childish dreams of someone who didn’t know the to get lost on the asteroid, especially w his place. He thought he was going to be some enough to care. Jonathan had, in fact, lost his way that implies. Martin escaping this hellhole. They were interplanetary gangster with all the young lad. way the world work. Didn’t know beat those childish beliefs out of As for the junkie Jonathan was chasing Eye and too mad to care that his face Not helping matters was that the stree

Worth the risk them, but he gets oody Mary,” said the wke it a double.” Jonathan once you accept. Junkies with product urrence in his line of “And I’ll have a Bl most of the people je junkies. He didn’t trust looked at the towing from Junkies ioman. “In fact, ma more profits when buy business. In fact, be trusted. weren’t a rare occed that junkies aren’t to ought from where

he would Moore was born on Tijuana. Not that be, and a Jonathan on the Earth was to move to the other too fancy, people any desiral than was him started about Neptan with simposely than don’t get On had his bar, El Ray, hiy were just desires. pile on Tiju worlds, the gal business dump, Ma ooked that a bi his extra leg he had ana and s cat, Hopew extra simple ma treated the them to be. and worlds ones with ho matter, for the leune. Jonat more clo he’d want side. On those ofhter ame. Thet another activities would be Tijuanan everyone is

That’s why pop very easily. like he could This one looked But junkies had their uses. isn’t careful in hand. If one machine before Jonathan was setting up the

‘Junkie,’ Jonathan The man in question that the hard way unnaturally fast. side businesses thought to himself. just because he didn’t Though one of his knew, never trust a involved in the sell of the forehead. The junkie as many a drug dealer junkie. Jonathan learned when one of them was a lean man running tried to kill him for not selling him Red Eye have any money. He ‘Always a fucking junkie.’ was lucky in that he only got cut on wasn’t as lucky. drugs, Jonahtan knew,

an asked, not playody Eye?” Jonathan “Is that real Blote yet. “I’m ying his hand quive a demonstraticle proof. Let’s ha gonna need a litted the junkie the on” Jonathan toss elative ease. The Rhe caught with re machine, which into his eyes like ed Eye sprayed iced as the junkie remained stone famace. Jonathan. He focused had his last high didn’t hear the unkie, such that hintely on the jur, their guns men enter the bamping, thein intheir jackboots st clanging about, twas too focused ent malicious. He ke to notic the was about to ma on the money he next door waiting man in the room ased a junkie ad. Jonathan nev to shoot them dee drugs. Junkies where he gets thngs. Had he, he we to ask such thin are to unreliable junkie before ould have shot thkie was aware of Eye. Even the jun he took the Red on before what was going the mob really is paranoia when Jonathan. It’s not out to get you.

being poor despit their hard work. Though he tried to distract himself, Jonathan was the best one of the three. This time, they were playing poker and arguing about One such matter arrived at 10:10 AM. They were three men at the bar already. yearned for something more. couldn’t help but mildly agree with their sentiment. Sure, he knew his place in the world. He didn’t want to leave Tijuana or anything. But there was a part of him who perfectly fine to facilitate their mind numbing conversation about which of them They weren’t businessmen, just customers who needed a place to talk. Jonathan was

he pulled out a in the back room” “I’m sure there’s on can replied the man as thought Jonathan. He this time the junkie sample of Red eye. ‘Least has the product,’ the back room. The simply replied that didn’t say this, but instead he would check man followed close behind.

y preparing cars for Red Eye to the quality tests Jonathan whear the bar. If he hakie then ould have shd, he probably was too buscreech in bt the jun dutifully prng his The man enteame script, Jonat instead, h pitch as all hey would duct, how snrough nathan was fo art of a buyer Jo junkies d the quality going that change same thing es. Bu it all nly thin g to Jonathan: I’m desp

vodka, Still, Jonathan said, “I’ve I’m the juice.” sighed tomato when fresh he afraid got out I’m of but

looking into the sun so far too long. Like having a shine directly into your eyes. Like four hours, though that could have just been Hope. cat maul at your face for at least crumpled on the streets. Just another body for the Nobody minded the junkie home at 7 AM with 15 Woolongs he nicked from pile. Jonathan returned to haim more sleep than the next night, as he always did. the junkie and planed to get

The two who had entered many more. And she had the man was a junkie. The body like a masochistic wasn’t a traditional junkie blood. She was pregnant been unseen on Tijuana deserve a better life than constant need of glasses.

The man knocked on the table. “Give me a beer,”

Eternal Desperation, the belief that A junkie wouldn’t be happy in this world. it doesn’t live flaws in the world. they didn’t get names because they aren’t someone better

an earlier happy that Jonat which would be done in these hours. So it quite well. She might’ve stuPM, but bowl of peanuts or Hope was sleeping on one of the tables wegal matters. mind a desire to have better. Cats have  At 7:45 AM, Jonath open at 8:30 AM. M than understood his arrangement an with a junkie, for example, Jonathan felt it was around for another year or so. rarely feed their pets due to being too matter their circumstances in life. Living of a bar’s set up was lesser life than living with a dealer. Junkies d headed over to El Ray, for an early morning ldn’t come until after 12 were more for extralan smoked a cigarette an busy being high, though Hope wouldn’t c times ost of the customers wo Jonathan’s. When something better came a glass of better to keep it open at person. Though, she hen the two entered the bar. She wasn’t in the people came. Most onsider herself a pet. More of a guest of a natural feeling of being owed better no customers would come along, she’d run off and be with a different beer. But the mornings

Friday, March 15, 2019

A Kind of Uncle

A Poem
To Fred.
Hey little guy. My name is Sean. I’m not quite your uncle, for I am not your father’s brother. But I am his cousin, so I guess that makes me an uncle of a kind. Perhaps I’m an uncle like Scrooge McDuck is. Not so much by blood, but by relationship. I chose to be close to you and yours when I could have not. But here I am, writing this story for you, one about having a younger sibling, a difficult one for me to tell, as I am the younger sibling of my end of the family. So it’s not like I know what it’s like.

I could tell you what it’s like to be the younger sibling. In truth, it’s rather drab. Most of the time, my brother and I talk like people who know each other. They say that there’s a special bond between siblings, that they inherently love each other no matter what. I’m here to tell you, little Freddy Frey, that’s a load of hooey. The truth is a brother, or in your case a sister, is just another person. We’re just people, you see. We hurt, we feel mad, and sad as well. But we feel happy, and cruel, and we help as well. We do these things to strangers and siblings alike.

So then, why care about your little sister? Why should my brother care about his younger brother? If, after all, we are just people, why should we care at all about our blood? About anyone at all?

Why should I care about you?

Simple: because you exist. It’s an odd thing, isn’t it: to exist. The world is such an odd place full of people who think they can be one thing, and one thing only. They can be cruel. They can be kind. They can sing. They can dance. They can think. They can do. They can dream. And that’s it. It’s terrifying, to them, to be able to do more than one thing. To exist is that ability they reject.

It’s so special to see people exist. To see a child be born, sometimes more than once. To see people dance about while singing long forgotten songs, to be cruelly kind, to think about our mad dreams.

I had a dream once. My brother and I were in the woods. Not a real wood, little Fred. It was a memory of a wood. You’ll remember them, one day. We were in the woods, walking about when we came across a little duck. Back then, my brother was deathly afraid of birds, so the sight of the duck caused him to faint. Not me though. I was saddened. The duck was dead, you see. His eyes were closed, his feathers drooping. And not a breath was felt.

Three little ducklings came by to see the duck as I held him. They wanted one more story from him, one more adventure. Alas, not all things can come true. The duck was dead.

“Quack! Quack!” replied the dead duck. He was alive and well, little Fred! He was also quite cross with me. “Quack Quack Quack!” he said, which I took to mean, “Why did you think I was dead?”

“I…” I tried to say, but the duck interrupted me.

“QUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCK.” Which I thought meant “I was just taking a nap.”

“I-I’m Sorry,” I stammered.

“Oh, not at all.” Replied the duck. “Now then, is he dead?” the duck pointed towards my brother.

“NO!” I said, not realizing I was shouting.

“Ah, a pity,” said the duck. “He seemed like a comfortable couch.”

And then I woke up. My brother was in the other room, still asleep having spent the night with his grandfather, whom you’ve met before, but don’t remember. They were working on something or other, I don’t recall. But what I do recall is that I agreed with the duck: he did look like a comfortable couch. Comfortable enough to sit on, perhaps. But then I thought, “Nah… wouldn’t be nice. Wouldn’t be nice at all.” Somedays, especially when I was young, I thought it would be funny. And… sometimes it was. But I don’t think it was ever nice.

That’s what it is to be a sibling, to live with other people for long stretches of time: you care for them, certainly. But you also have to deal with them when they’re crabby and thinking that comedy trumps niceness. And you have to deal with your own considerations of comedy and niceness. For there are times, little Fred, when one trumps the other. I don’t know. It was five in the morning when I wrote this poem for you. I don’t want it to be as dead as a duck.

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

90 and 11 Months

For Carmine DeVita.

Got a good reason
For taking the easy way out
Got
John Lennon and Paul McCartney

To me, you’re
Always sitting on
That reclining
Chair in
The family room, or
Busy working in the
Basement, on
An
Old bench in
The workshop. Not
Hooked up
On
Oxygen tubes. Not
Dying in a
Hospital bed.
Not smelling
Of a Corpse.
You’re still so
Far away; I never
Crossed the
Bridge my
Brother
Walked. Old
Pictures of
Us
Appear on your
Wall, separated by
Time, showing us to
Be the same.
Maybe that’s
Why I
Never wanted to


Be close to you:
I didn’t want to see myself

Tuesday, March 13, 2018

A Pax American Murder

1.

Answer the question, Pax Institute:
Nora O’Rourke?
Algorithm 8, next.
And alone there, armed.

This can hiding,
Right this, World Peace.
Wrong, doesn’t miracle?
Random purpose.
Love over.

Avenged Question’s answer.
Scared Show, Soldier/Hunchback
Exclamation!
Question Mark?
Bludgeon Strength.

Gun caved in skull,
Pax struck.
Brain damage elevator.
Questions clear,
Hunchback Soldier.

2.

Answer this:
Can Avenged Question’s Answer
Gun caved in skull?

The Question scared.
Show Pax.

…Pax Institute,
Nora O’Rourke hiding
Soldier Hunchback.
Exclamation Question Mark

Algorithm 8.
Next, right this
World peace
Struck!

And wrong!
Doesn’t miracle.

Random brain damage--
ELEVATOR!!!

Alone, bludgeon
Strength Questions
Clear Hunchback.

There armed purpose:
Love over, soldier.

3.

This can right.
This World peace.
Wrong doesn’t miracle.
Random purpose:
Love over.

Answer Algorithm 8 next,
There armed scared show.

The question, Pax Institute:
Nora O’Rourke and (alone hiding)
Avenged Question’s answer
(Soldier Hunchback Exclamation:
Question Mark!) bludgeon?
Strength gun caved in
Skull, Pax struck brain damage.
Elevator questions clear,
Hunchback soldier!

4.

Answer Soldier, Hunchback.
Exclamation: Question, Mark
Struck!

Struck random, alone.

Alone, purpose love…
Over.

Purpose:
Love over bludgeon.
Strength/brain damage elevator.

Brain, damage elevator.
Right this world peace
(Pax Institute), Nora O’Rourke.

Pax Institute,
Nora O’Rourke avenged
Questions. Answer?

Avenged questions
Answer “PAX.”

“Pax Soldier,” Hunchback
Exclamation. Question,
Mark Right, “This World
Peace and…

And random
Bludgeon Strength
Soldier?”

5.


Answer the question,
Pax Institute…
Nora O’Rourke:
Algorithm 8 next?
And alone, there armed

Purpose: Love
Over Random Wrong.
Doesn’t miracle right
This world peace?
Hiding this can

Avenged Questions answer.
Scared show soldier.
Hunchback exclamation…
Question Mark.
Bludgeon strength!

Soldier questions Clear Hunchback Brain.
Damage elevator struck Pax gun.
Caved in Skull.

6.

Soldier purpose:
Love over there, armed

A lone bludgeon.
Strength questions clear,
Hunchback.

Brain damage elevator…
Random.

And wrong doesn’t,
Miracle?

Struck right, this World
Peace Algorithm.
8 next.

Pax Institute (Nora O’Rourke,
Hiding soldier) Exclamation:
Question Mark.

Pax scared?
Show the question.

Answer this:
Can avenged questions answer gun/caved in skull?

7.


Answer The Question!
Pax Institute? Nora O’Rourke,
Algorithm 8 next?
And alone there,
Armed this can.

Hiding right, this world
Peace. Wrong doesn’t, Miracle.
Random Purpose:
Love Over Avenged.
Questions answer scared.
Show soldier, hunchback.
Exclamation! Question
Mark.

Bludgeon…
Strength gun caved in
Skull, Pax!

Struck

Brain,
Damage elevator.
Questions clear,
Hunchback Soldier.

8.


Soldier, Hunchback
Clear. Questions elevator
Damage. Brain struck
Pax skull in caved gun.

Strength bludgeon.
Mark, question exclamation.
Hunchback, Soldier, show scared
Answer. Questions avenged.

Over love, purpose random.
Miracle doesn’t wrong.
Peace world this right!
Hiding, can this

Armed there alone?
And next… Algorithm 8!
O’Rourke, Nora.
Institute Pax,

Question the answer.

[Photos: The Multiversity: Pax Americana #1 by Grant Morrison and Frank Quietly]