Dark Tumblr Themes

Text Post Fri, Apr. 27, 2012 3 notes

(I went to a local poetry event and somewhat embarrassed a nine year old boy after speaking to his father {who was running the night} because I encouraged him to read out a poem of his own the next time it was held. He looked like he wanted to sink into the ground. Then I got drunk and wrote this.)

does he have something to burst from

tight, tight, tight, tight

long after the last of the sun’s swallowing sandbars shrink away from the tables and salt shakers

could he?

could he be his own, on his own

tight, tight, tight, tight

waiting, writing, waiting,

tight,

outside of the cigarette smoke and the apologetic obscenities,

all too aware of your presence

part of something bigger

part of something last, part of something out of place and awkward and shy by the register at the counter, all freckles and bashfulness,

too aware of your father’s bragging,

too unaware of the admiration of others,

genuine,

hazed,

blurred, out of place,

out of place.

How could you ever write words the way he does without being compared

to the way he does?

Without cursing and distracting and veering sharply away from expectations regardless of your birthrite?

You’re welcome, with your short, sharp sneezes, with your freckles and young voice

without the way your jaw drops

He knows what a eulogy is because he asked

He isn’t sure if his father lives more or less away from his cup of tea,

more or less in the spotlight and the dark red backdrop of glaring windows,

more or less in the view of fifty people, decades older than he is, an unreachable age, unfathomable in being nine, almost ten, but not, not quite

not quite,

not ever

not ever.

I could never be the lawyer that my father is, so who am I to ask you to be the poet your father is?






Video Post Mon, Mar. 05, 2012 18 notes

This is the Humument/Blackout Poetry-style experimental project that I was working on last semester. I found a copy of a Western pulp novel and a copy of an old Science Fiction pulp magazine and I swapped their genres through the words that I chose to leave and the illustrations that I did.

These are from ‘Astounding Science Fiction’, the Science Fiction pulp magazine from 1958 that I converted into a small collection of Western poetry.




Video Post Mon, Mar. 05, 2012 6 notes

Since I finally got my official mark for these pieces, I thought I ought to put them up here.

This is the Humument/Blackout Poetry-style experimental project that I was working on last semester. I found a copy of a Western pulp novel and a copy of an old Science Fiction pulp magazine and I swapped their genres through the words that I chose to leave and the illustrations that I did.

This was from ‘Shane’ by Jack Schaefer, the Western novel that I converted into a small collection of Science Fiction poetry.



1/1