Archive for September, 2015

Reading Tomorrow


25 Sep

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IMG_1012

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ticketed for parking in the twilight zone


23 Sep

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broken lenses

 

henry bemis’s wife could go get fucked
by a rampaging aarmory of rabid aardvarks
if she’d hadn’t already expired
within the impact of that h-bomb
all the man wanted to do was read, helen
was that so hard to understand
instead you posture, snout pricked up
talking about how no husband of yours should dare rob you of conversation
but, henry, all he wanted was a little time
a good book is all
whether on the bank vault floor or inside his comfy chair at home
shakespeare, shelley, shaw
this year next year on and on
until they build society back up to keep one occupied
distracted
counting money instead of pages
but for now, henry, just pick up the first one that you see
you shouldn’t be stacking tomes like that nohow
ruins the binding, you know that
pick one up and read instead
just mind you don’t break your glasses on the pavement
(and all that’s left is for seth mcfarlane to make a witty brain cell joke of you)
so don’t be positioning your head
at any downward sloping angles
instead look straight ahead
at the letters on the paper, black on yellowed white
at this beautiful, angry world, alone
there must have been a reason after all
that the guy that wrote ya in the first place
wouldn’t let any other scribe put god inside a script

(dedicated to rob serling)

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on the subject of love and creation


20 Sep

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bixby

what if god just happened
like the man from earth
what if the stars led me to you
those mysterious dead travelers
they told me how you were created
like god
you just occurred
they merely opened up their nomad’s wings
made of an endless migratory light
and there you were
for me and for the world

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sound from the wall


02 Sep

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anxiety

 

only in america
creflo dollar, mothafuck malachi
money over god
but if you dig the print
even big cloud homey endorses it

 

there’s always something on the news
the scales of justice
tend to tilt
with the winds of prejudice
and i
napping, midday, in the shadow
of timelessness
consider the future like the past
like repetition, trying to make it work better
considering the further
death is like an aching tooth
bothersome only until it’s pulled
and nothing remains
but empty space
and bank accounts

 

yet there shouldn’t be this severity
and i should just write another poem
about your lips
i like them when you pout

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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