new

Holding Together Of

My girlfriend's neck and a friend with a ball, deflated.
Going anywhere. (Going nowhere.) Google Street View. Turning right. Minor chords. Moonlight.
Let's betend we're married but you're on that side of the fence and me, this.
&, & we're still here in the bleeding moon.

If today we could be both thinking of the way things meet other things
The dark undercarriage would still be full of greasy moving parts
And the lies we tell each other would still be real and dripping
The stuff that washes down gullies and gutters.

No thinking like a mix tape
Because the stuff that drips down us is minus the guts
But the people here are very nice, still
Dark strangers on various hills.

But between you and I
And the walls and the posters and the sills and
The protons and the neutrons and the bowling alleys
The stuff will not come apart easily.

poetics make bad dreams

i was reading charles olson last night before bed. i took a tylenol pm because i wanted to fall asleep, but it gave me fever dreams instead.

i dreamt of OPEN

PROJECTIVE VERSE

(

i dreamt of the kinetics of the thing.

(

i dreamt that life=resistance





i woke up sweating a few times because of charles olson. great.

uuuuuuuuupdate

i have like 7,500 words.

if you want to read what i have you can go here.

nanowrimo update again

6,097 words.

trying to get to 10k by the 10th.

small excerpt:

"Hello?" I am calling Maddy from the hotel room. Poppy is getting ice.

"What do you think of houndstooth sex toys?" She is hanging up. She is probably waking up from a nap next to someone or maybe binging. Maybe taking a binge snooze. There are certain ways you are supposed to texture walls. If you do it wrong people will notice. You are not supposed to notice walls. Clean, innocuous walls.

I am having it my way. I call her back. This is no waxy pay phone.

"Do you feel good about the way you acted the other night?" She is hanging up. She is hung up. I used to wonder which one of my parents would die first and how the other would take it. I also think to myself how I can possibly make it to be old. How have I survived so far? How have I not killed myself in a car accident? How have I not accidentally broken my tether during a space walk?

Astronauts lose their footing falling. Roofers lose their footing and fall. Porn stars lose their stardom if they do not make a quota.

nanowrimo update

i will make myself have 5,000 words by the end of the day. alex and jess have posted excerpts.

here is a 2 sentence excerpt from my story:

I cannot kill the monkey either. I am twisting its neck but it twists with it.

I leave it in my car and walk back in the house.

2,000+

i am past 2,000 words. my google documents word count also tells me that a third grader could read my story:

Readability
Average sentences per paragraph:	4.67
Average words per sentence:	7.74
Average characters per word:	4.10
Average words per page:	541.50
Flesch Reading Ease: [?]	89.89
Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level: [?]	3.00
Automated Readability Index: [?]	2.00

i guess i have to try a little harder if i want to make something profound. (i don't.)

nanowrimo

i am doing nanowrimo.

national novel writing month.

i have 1,000 words so far. it is in a google document. if you want to read it e-mail me and i will add you as a viewer so you can read it anytime.

jess is doing it too.