Thursday, March 30, 2006

I and They (a poem for spring)

Nightly I yawn and fall deep into nightmarish slumber:
My incisors loose themselves from diseased, purplish gums
Pus accumulates in a boil on my upper lip
Despotic supermarket cashiers loom large
They punish me with bladed instruments
I am forced behind the toilet
I have only a bag of caramels and a bottle of bourbon
They have taken all of my spinach
I have been hoarding it for months
cans and cans of it
in case of emergency

I stand alone under a gazebo
Wearing only a pink cardigan
A crowd gathers behind me
They laugh at my pale sagging ass
They write bad reviews that are published in a scholarly journal
I cannot turn around due to severe whiplash
I stand before them, baring my embarrassing rear
and forming my malleable forehead into horns and antlers
with chapped and shaking hands

30 comments:

Mountain Man said...

Ok so it's not such a great poem but the point is that I am up at 3 a.m. I was in the studio working until 11:30 or so and then conked out and then woke up at almost 2, came home and now I am fucked. Sleep will not come. Sleep is millions of miles from me, I can't imagine it. The time is now for ridiculous fake poetry. I am suck incarnate!!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said...

Hi suck incarnate,
I am Bus of slumber. Hop on.
It will a mystery tour of synaptic dimensions.
First stop,

Mine (a Poem for Morning)

The light barely fills the shaft entrance.
It is weak a dappled in an unhealthy way.
The walls are slick with an expectant residue.
a warm seeping goo. No sound.


it is not true Haiku, mostly because I wrote it in Kentucky after my boyfriend left me. I need to meet more people.

Anonymous said...

"weak and dappled"

Corny said...

Are you tense about your show? I can't wait to see your pale sagging asses, I'm thinking they're going to rock the world and the scholarly journals will be composing aria's based on the revelation that in all creation, on the face of the globe, here below, under the sun there are no forms as lovely as your pale sagging asses.

sloth said...

MM, my pale and sagging ass sends its regards to yours... and I am messengering over a carton of spinach as we speak... may the nap gods be with ye, MM.

The Capt'n said...

Mountain Man, I don't know what's gettin' you down, but I'm sending you the rays of light.
Seriously, I am, don't roll your eyes.

fairy butler said...

i hope you are sleeping right now.

Mountain Man said...

Thanks guys...everything is ok, post-sleep. I tend to enjoy existential angsting hyberbolic melodramas so don't mind me. Degrading self seems like fun sometimes, especially when sleep won't come.

Mountain Man said...

Armchair anxiety, is what someone once called it. I have to smarten up.

Mountain Man said...

I am going to write a review of my ass and submit it to Art Forum. Is that a conflict of interest? Even if I am really honest?

Anonymous said...

Sleep is scary sometimes. Nightmares happen--fear is always lurking beneath the surface. I keep a collection of stuffed toys by my side at all times.

fairy butler said...

mm, i know of a gazebo you can stand under AND ride a motorcylce out of. if you are interested. but, more importantly. my outfit for the blog convention. ?? help.

Anonymous said...

What happened to the lavender sweats, FB?

fairy butler said...

get ready. i am going shopping for my outfit tonight. suspenders. teardrop makeup. there are so many fantasy outfits. maybe i will have to change half way through the convention?

Anonymous said...

MM, you are the despot of ether and I worship you fully. I am your onion, I mean minion.

fairy butler said...

please be with me others. mm. you will wear your hairpiece i hope.

Anonymous said...

what should I wear?

Anonymous said...

I want to look like goo.

Anonymous said...

i will wear mc hammer pants to the blog convention so if i shit my pants you won't be able to tell. sometimes i get nervous and shit my pants. social anxiety.

Anonymous said...

okay. That's a good idea. I'll bring some diapers just in case.

The Capt'n said...

w.w.
wow, you really laid it on the line!
I just read aloud your last statement to Sea Monkey, who is still laying on the floor laughing 1 whole minute later.
"The job of the artist is to stop the lies of society."
-Sea Monkey

fairy butler said...

ok, forget it. i tried. i put on the stonewash jumper, the black electric jumper. not long enough = some kind of desert toe. you know what i am saying. so i will just be slightly off fb. if i had some hammer pants i would wear them. go ww. i support you in this.

Anonymous said...

Holy crap W.W.! I haven't laughed so hard since I heard the gansters making a rap out of "Maneater" on the Path train. If Ham brings diapers I will bring the baby wipes.

Anonymous said...

and the safety pins. I've got that covered.

Anonymous said...

there is room in the pants for all. see you at the convention center.

Anonymous said...

lion king! wow. i forgot about you.

remember art star?

will lion king and art star be at your party?

Anonymous said...

WW I can't wait to see you in your new look. Martin, Art Star and Lion King will both be there. They are forgotten embers in the guise of familiar characters.

Anonymous said...

I happen to own many a pair of hammer pants.

Anonymous said...

rape pants

Anonymous said...

I haven't worn rape pants since the old days at studio 54. I may have to break them out.