Stalling

Presta atencion
Chalk thrown at a head,
disembodied,
nonentities,
frenetic, fierce, ferocious,
But whatever shall we do?
Whatever shall we do,
failing to focus for forever hours,
lifers, skypers,
i'm playing hooky in this world,
you aren't,
you are phenomenologically relevant,
i relegate, exposing my Achilles heel to all those with googly-eyes
Ahh, do you sense the bell jar,
do you ooze? do you ooze?
repositories of caramelized wishes,
as if you didn't know,
that's where i was going to go after all,
thinking about spaces,
taking up spaces, filling space,
space-time continuum,
wary, emotionally labile,
and smugness, all fog here, eerie, spine-tickling fog, kettle-induced fog,
had a tea party for two yesterday,
i was the only one there,
oh, i took a boat this morning,
to the off-stage scenes, the ones that only royalty can see,
morality-bound, mortality-bound, space-time continuum-bound,
is spiritually enlightenment on your to-do list today?
what kind of question is that, of course it is, of course it is, but then again, have you taken to writing lists of chores in pencil, since your typewriter can't be with you, or do you not have chores anymore? do you miss chores? i put too much soap in my dishwasher today, i felt like a character in a children's story, mopping up the heaps of delicate and comical bubbles, can you believe it, i have a dishwasher, and get this, a washer-dryer in my apartment, who am i? i should still hand-wash everything, or sacrifice my humanity right then and there, which is easy to do, forfeiting is easy, dignity is tough, but we are tough, lifers, must be lifers, sacrifices, don't cry MS. Teeming Spectacularly Teeming Woman, there are swarms today? swarms of what today?, don't feel cookey, don't feel vulnerable, or don't show it, i command the, parataxis, you went, you saw, you conquered, how is improvisation? it's taxing, dismantling, and sweeter than you remembered it last,
realized this morning, as i did my chores, no, had to confront this morning, that limbs are dispensable, imagination is not? we must read kant i suppose, are you reading?, that's all that i can bring myself to do, haven't ridden the street car yet, almost did, the doors closed before i could get in, maybe tonight, or tomorrow,
i'm sorry that this city is tainted in your mind's eye because its missing its Vietnamese Queen, and if you knew what was good for you, and listened to Bob Dylan, you'd come here soon.
WAYWARD SISTERS are holy.

ecstasy prance

MA MER ES LA MAR, ME OF THE STARS
ROSE EROS, MIS CIRCOS
ROSA AMOR, DOLOR
MI CASA MI CARA MI CAMA, MI CUARTO MI CUADERNO MI CABEZA
MY HOUSE MY FACE MY BED, MY ROOM MY NOTEBOOK MY HEAD
ME OF THE STARS, STARVED IN THE BARS, IN THE CARS, AND THE BARMEN
DAYS WITHOUT LIGHT, FOGGY NIGHTS
VIETNAMESE QUEEN AND HER AMPHETAMINE MACHINE
WHEREVER WE MAY ROLL, WHOLE SOUL IN THE ASHBOWL
HAIR BRUSHED TO THE SIDE
DIANA DIABLA, STRANGE DANGER
HUSKY DUSKY DING DONG
OK I KNOW I KNOW NO MOTHER, I BEEN GROWN FAR FROM LA MAR
SIEMPRE QUEMANDO PARA ANHELAR
NUCA NO PUEDO PENSAR, I CANT, I CANT THINK, IM PINK
OK SHE IS A RUSTY DUST PING PONG
I AM A MAD BLACK HATTER
I DIDS PILLS FOR THRILLS
I CANT KEEP NO THRILLS, KILL SLEEP
LA REINA DE CORAZONES, SONRISA, REINA DE LA SONRISA
I AINT GOT NO HOME, BEEN GROWN IN A DEAD ZONE
I OF THE STARS, AND CARS, AND BARS, AND BAR MEN
DESERT WHINE, HEAR DEAR EAR
I OF THE FLOWERS, AND TOWERS, AND WHISKEY SOURS
VIETNAMESE QUEEN AND HER AMPHETAMINE MACHINE
IM SPENDING ALL ME MONEY, HUNNYBE
AND I KNOW YOU FEEL SAD JUST TO SEE ME

I DONTA WANT YOU TO

I WENT BOOM BOOM IN THE FRENCH ROOM
ECSTASY DANCE, GLANCE BACK
ALL THE FACES AND PLACES AND MADE UP SPACES
WITH THE POET AND PAINTER AND BOOZER LOOZER
THE POUR ROCK AND ROLL ANGEL
OOZED AND FLOOZED AND USED, CROONIN
THUNDERSTRUCK, STUCK, SUDDEN RAINBOWS
WHEN THE WIND BLOWS AND SHOWS WHAT IT KNOWS, AND WHAT YOU DONT KNOW
THE WOUND ON THE MOON AT A PEEP SHOW, SON OF A HO FO SHO
I DID PAINT A LAUGH ON THE BABBLE RABBLE ROUSER
I DIDDA PRANCE ON THE CHANCE FLOOR
AS THEY SWEPT UP THE DANCE FLOOR
I DID DICTATE A ZEITGEIST HEIST
IS THIS A ZEITGEIST?
THIS MUST BE A ZEITGEIST
I THINK THIS IS A ZEITGEIST
THIS IS A ZEITGEIST
A ZEITGEIST
ZEITGEIST
I COULDA MUTTERED WHAT YOU WERE COLORED
HOW I COMPOSE AND DECOMPOSE AND EXPOSE AND ERODE
I HAD A GOODBYE AND HELLO SHOW, IN MY YELLOW DREAMCOAT
PLAY BLUE DJAY MORE BIRD WORDPLAY
DONT YOU FORGET ABOUT ME
SOLO SOY TU PAYASO A LA DISCOoOoOoOo

Experimental/short

A READING FROM THE BOOK OF DYLAN---

"
PARADISE, SKID ROW, & MARIA BRIEFLY

fatty Aphrodite´s mama--i bend to you... & with sex mad eternity at my vegetable shadow--i, wiping my hands on the horse´s neck--the horse burping & you of the Indiana older brother--he who whips you with his belt & you who does not look for reason to your torture & i want your horizontal tongue--within Reflex--the perfect doom & these cruel nitemares where brickmasons introduce me to hideous connections & Marx brothers grunting NO QUIERO TU SABIDURIA & your thighs be half awake & me so Sick so Sick of these lovers in Biblical roles--"so you´re out to save the world are you? you imposter--you freak! youre a contradiction! youre afraid to admit youre a contradiction! youre misleading! you have big feet & you will step on yourself all the people you mislead will pick you up! you have no answers! you have just found a way to pass your time! without this thing, you would shrivel up & be nothing--you are afraid of being nothing--you are caught up in it--it´s got you!" i am so Sick of Biblical people--they are like castor oil--like rabies & now i wish for Your eyes--you who does not talk any business & supplies my mind with blankness QUIERO TUS OJOS & your laughing & your slavery... there be no drunken risk--i am an intimite Egyptian--say goodbye to the marine
"

TAKE YOUR TIME, DRINK A LOT, DRINK UP EVERYTHING YOU´VE GOT

I WANT YOU TO KNOW that I am being a very good queen, I spend my days in the sunlight eating mamon, things here are very beautiful, which is why I decided to stay & I promise you this is the place tall tales are made of-----
Playa Roca is falling apart. Yesterday its steps fell into the sea. Tomorrow it will all wash away. Colocho draws volcanos in the sand and explains that sooner or later the ocean will want to take its earth back from the people. I am so far from shore, but I have a soul that loves to swim/when I first went to swim they were pulling a body from the sea/I thought it might be too rough for little me.
The Gambler is from Denmark. He asks me if I like Obama. He has had 11 mojitos and is trying to set a record (he tells me). He tells me that he knows he will die in Vegas, he was born to die in Vegas--the half-hawaiian half-wit interrupts to tell me he built Vegas from the ground up. I have not had anything to drink tonight but I wanted to meet a stranger/he did not appear/the Stranger writes to me that I am shapeshifting/he throws salt at my love.
I expected to be born & beside those that I love & I´m not & I expected to have learnt it by now anyway but I haven't & I feel cheated & used & so I attempt to investigate music & patterns in the universe but right now I am very far from shore, I really do feel foreign sometimes picking wildflowers.
YELLEY, she tells me, has notes, detailed maps, drawings of where she´d been.
"I will transcribe these things to screen, and send them to you."
"Thank you for your time--you´re kind."
Yesterday she calls me & I see her face but the phone line is disconnected. Forgetting that I am very far away, that I am out of my ocean & my vocabulary is much smaller now, I take her face on the screen as an omen that my life is very close at hand/ I feel uncomfortable in such a pragmatic language, with words that express time, that aren´t mine.

XO FURY ANNE

I am dubiously certain

I am dubiously certain, as I am certain of the cup of coffee placed on the dresser beside me, that you have been neglecting your duties as a writer, and contingently, your duties as a friend. Now Anne, you know I am not one to give you grief about such trifles, but I do feel that you should have at least written a snippet here and there. Perhaps in English; perhaps in Spanish.

I know nothing about your adventures in the sun-burnt nations and you say "Siempre en mi mente durante mis viajes" but how can I believe you, like I believe the cup of coffee that I am holding in my hands, that this is true. There is no evidence to prove such a thing when you haven't written in a month.

So I leave you with this. This little, insignificant summation of my grievances and hope you take them as seriously as you take your studies in Nicaragua. That is all for now my dear. And as you can see, I am dubiously certain.

Bus ride to San Juan del Sur

I was on a bus from Cardenas to San Juan del Sur. All I could think about was my poor backpack tied to the top of the bus, along with the chickens. I just imagined all my books taking off and landing on the fields, the pages escaping the binding and flying around like birds and dragonflies.

A gringo, in the small town of Calcutta, wearing a worn out orange t-shirt, took a long drag from his cigarette. "I was a vet from the Persian Gulf War. After that, I decided I no longer wanted to be American. I saw some stuff and knew I could no longer live in the states. I moved to Costa Rica and did construction for about eight years. My boss took me to Nicaragua. I went back to the States, made some money, got my brother and my mother, and came back down here."

I was on a bus from Cardenas to San Juan del Sur. I sat next to this middle-aged North Carolinian Gringo (the only other English -speaking person on the bus and his family was the only English-speaking family in the entire village) and his nephew. I made the mistake of telling him that his nephew supports my friend’s theory that mixed kids are the most attractive.
“He ain’t mixed. He’s an adopted kid.” He picked up the child, put him on his lap, and started rubbing his head. “Right man? Where going to grandma’s house and then where we going? We’re going to your house? You’re going to go look at the chickens?” He tried to get his nephew to talk to me but he was too shy or I posed too much of a threat. I made some funny faces at the nephew. The nephew was unimpressed so I retired to watch the Gringo’s pale, worn out hands run up and down the smooth, dark skin of the small boy.
“You fly down here?” he eventually asked me.
“Yea. I flew into Juan Santa Maria.”
“Where’s that?”
“San Jose, Costa Rica.”
“Did you fly down here?” I asked.
“No. I come on the bus.”
“All the way through Mexico?”
“We drove because we used to live in Colorado, me and my brother, and then we drove all over America. We’re pretty much exactly alike, me and my brother, the way we think about the world and you know all of it. We had this van and we used to live in and staff, work construction all around the country. Then we drove down to Costa Rica, sold the van, sold everything, worked down there, then came up here to Nicaragua. I haven’t been out of Nicaragua in eight years.”
I started to wonder what my life would be like if I moved to this village. Would skinny-dipping in the middle of Lake Nicaragua beneath a full moon and a swarm of bats get old after eight years?
“Yea. I don’t think I will ever go back to the states,” he said.
I knew the U.S. fucked with him somehow. “So, so, so do you have sentiments against American people or the American government?”
“Just the government. American people are innocent people. We believe in our government. They just steer us the wrong way, you know. I was a believer. I was red, white, and blue all over. I was a marine, you know what I’m saying, I mean, I loved America until I went down to the Persian Gulf. Then, after that, I said I’m out of here.”
“Have you kept up with what’s happening in America right now?”
“No.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“We live up in the mountains over there,” he said pointing out the window.
“It must be crazy to have all that firsthand experience,” I said.
“That’s my mother’s house. I am painting her house this week. ”
“Oh right. Your mom is down her too.”
“Yea its only because we’re down here,” he said.
“My mom would never come here.”
“It’s not her place of choice but she didn’t have any other choice. She knew we were never coming back to the states, so…”
“What a flexible mom!”
“Yea, she’s retired now, our dad’s dead, she didn’t’ have any money, so…”