Wednesday, April 29, 2015

NPM Day 13 - Harder

Hips crushed hard candy
Harder Judy
Gout slinger of faults
Full-body slap against a wall
O' white bumpy plastic 
'tis of thee
Sweet cream and entropy
Strike your neighbor thine tambourine
Splatter so much you drown yourself
So hard you become a stranger

If life is a conveyor belt
Who knows which side we're on
Except the ketchup and oral sex
It's the sugary button walking pace
Of the pavement age timing rise
That slips
Like sins through years
Into cracks around my eyes
And candy in my ears

Saturday, April 25, 2015

NPM Day 12 - Loose Time

I just picked a speck
Of dried quinoa
From a rare unrounded cave
Of my Macbook
At a coffee shop
That strains the block
For a single sepia drop
Of the familiar drink
Of history
If me at twenty-two
Spotted me at thirty-three
Well, he wouldn't be up before noon
But he'd be all sly grins
Sweating cigarettes & gin
Thinking "I'll never be him"
In his notebook ruffled with crust
Like a dead pigeon's ass
With poems of death and lust
And his notes from class
Devoid of context or use
And like his meter, loose
But not necessarily free
Too drunk to know what to be
Too unfocused to know what to do
"Fuck me at thirty three"
Fuck you, twenty-two

Sunday, April 19, 2015

NPM Day 11 - Patio Waitresses

Faces unsure of their sternness
Tattoos dragging breasts
Breasts dragging eyes
Everything pouring, leaving lines
Of caged firecracker lust
Shellshocked clippings in a vase,
Of collars and caps
Their gripping waves
Against whimpering thunder
Of distant caves
Form canyons of digital wonder
In a sky mirror maze
Fruit served with a knife
Coats the tongue, but not the strife,
In sugar bumps, inducing haze

NPM Day 10 - Bougainvillea

A bougainvillea with means
Vine, bush, tree, awareness
Worships the same gods in reverse
Secret subterranean palate parties
High on rare earth metals
Group sex
Bees
Microchips with memories
A mushroom cloud of fuchsia
Protects a vibrating trellis of thought

Thursday, April 16, 2015

NPM Day 9 - Office Pizza Fly

Mrt mrnt
Mrrrrrnt
It's not enough
Mrrrrnnt
Just admit it
MRRRRrrrrrr
Mrrnnnn n nn nn n
Distracted and divided
Distracted and divided
Distracted and divided by hunger
Mrnt

Simple algebra
Mrrrrrrr
Gourmet pizza
Mr
More demand
Mr
Same money
Bad sex bad pizza
Lots of it
Good pizza couch sex
None for your roommates
Let them get their own
Let me touch your eye
MRRRRrrrrrr

rrrrrrRRRRNT
Look around the room
Alertness and spite
Greed
Hunger most of all
Mrrrrrnt
Like a funeral

Just leave the box
With the cold half slice
Open when you leave
I got your back
MRRRrrrrrr

NPM Day 8 - 90 Scent Speakers

Here are the translated lyrics from a popular hip hop club anthem in a culture similar to ours, but where everybody communicates by scent instead of words. Words have been replaced entirely (or never existed), so this song would be a series of scents with a backing track played at night clubs where people smell one another discreetly (or not) and dance. Among many other things, we have drastically different courtship procedures (but with some familiar themes, esp. along gender lines), and we have sexualized long-term memory. We'll call the act 90 Scent Speakers, the song is "Powder Set".


Crowded hot and close
Shy girl on her own
Brave enough to let loose
But I guess I stepped up too soon
Her sensation directed
To me and I tried to collect it
A got a glimpse of heaven
So did she but she won't accept it

Look away and sniff
Look away and reminisce
Savor
Look away and sniff
Look away and reminisce

Girl, I know your powder set
Reach into your purse to get
Cardamom to fragment
While you're here where the air is stagnant
So why you try n hide
When your body speaks, abide
Set your powder set aside
Take this flavor for a ride
Just inhale

Just let the buds make a shape
And your inhibitions escape
In time our memories will make
Us a private spice blend sex tape

I'm the ambiance you seek
When I sniff you whiff we peak
You can't send your friend to sneak
By and try to describe unique

Look away and sniff
Look away and reminisce
Savor
Look away and sniff
Look away and reminisce

Girl, I see your powder set
When you know I smell your sweat
(Look away and sniff)
I could be your powder set
(Look away and sniff)
Let me be your powder set
(Look away and sniff)
I will be your powder set
(Look away and reminisce)

Girl, I know your powder set
And I know I made you wet
Don't know why you stand,
Dropping curry by the fan
This ain't your first time
Lift my arm and you will find
With our memories entwined
Is the way to touch the divine
Just inhale

Monday, April 13, 2015

National Poetry Month Day 7 - One Ticket

A man approaches the ticket counter
At the Phoenix Art Museum
He believes to be screening
A popular Maya Deren film
The marquis behind the counter
Over the cashier's shoulder
Does not advertise this
The cashier looks amused
The man peers around them,
As though they were an obstacle
As though they are not a source
Of nearly boundless knowledge

Less than a minute ago
The man double-checked the event
On the museum's event calendar
In the shadow of a dyed glass phallus
Which shielded his device
From the sunlight

With all available certainty
He asked of the "Film screening"
Having forgotten
All identifying words
"There typically are not film screenings
At art museums
Try the AMC
On 3rd Ave and Taylor"
Meekly, he explained he saw
Online that they were screening
Experimental films on Sundays
Then he apologized
For not remembering
The name
Of today's feature
"Seems a bit odd, walking all this way
To watch a film you don't know the title of."
How did they know he walked?
"You're banded with sweat."
So he was
The denial persisted
He finally took out his phone
Showed the cashier the event
"I can't imagine why
Anyone
Would put themselves through this film"
They printed a ticket.
A friend of his said he should watch it
It seemed like the sort of thing
He'd be into
They withheld the ticket,
Severed from the roll,
And sang

"And if the difference between life and death
Is having feelings you can't express
That secrets are power
Is the only power you have

He seemed like the sort of thing I'd be into
And if I have those feelings enough
Will he happen again?

Meaning runs from your arms
like children
After dogs
Like dogs after moving cars

Meaning seemed like the sort of thing I'd be into
The draft from the shaft
Between knowing and meaning
Gives us the flu
Who dies
And who mourns?"

The man accepted the ticket
Followed a velvet rope
The ticket taker asked of his sticker
The sticker is also required, see
Denied
The man returns to the cashier
"I demand sticker"
A shortage of stickers is declared
"You must earn one to proceed
Through dissonance of deed
So wisely or not, choose your attack
For everything destroyed
Someday comes back"

And so he understood
Interviewing the bourgeoning line
Biting off the noses
Of anyone not waiting
For the screening of a popular Maya Deren film

Having passed with his sticker
The man settled in his seat
The film sputtered into vision
But the cashier's song
All the man can hear
The bloody pile of noses
All the man can see
He felt like propaganda
To tolerate himself
Left salty mouthed in secret
Halfway through the film

Eight months later
The man received a check
For $31
He wondered what he was into
What was on the marquis
At the Phoenix Art Museum