me v. lacey v. jess

Song Guilts The Fluidity of Motion
For Lacey

Did a pink terrier fish its way
out of skinny jeans to make a taste of
itself? I don't figure in sleeping
and the tongue taste of green all
over our sheets. Is it theft
or people in carnival tents smoking
till midnight? All this plaid saved
a goldfish once. Salt became gathered
while I slept and someone I knew is
a hot pink balloon. There is no
sleeping in flesh, there is no
retreat from half known verbs,
now made clear, and never forgiven.
We flourish in this mess. We make a
joke, push three buttons, and look
at us, a useless machine, broken
in three unique places.

Song of Single Wind Pipe (Spain 1871)
For Jess

We wished in a broken hounds voice,
only people never chronicle the lives
of liver spots and sharp rains. We share
a space of no wind now, no air. Some leaves
and borrowed hands always say you are gone,
going, left, buried. I dress nice for you
to come over. I want to be gathered in salt
just for a minute. Singing, you are everywhere
at once happier than in this minute. No one
has to happen in all the minutes, and I
can't happen in it all, saving nothing,
feeling blocked or sharpened. And no, you
won't ever get rid of me. I'll fuck up your
pretty little life.

Nickelback is worst band on the planet.

Nickelback - Something in Your Mouth Lyrics

got to meet the hottie with the million dollar body
they say(pray) its over budget but you’d pay her just to touch it come on
needs to hit the big screen and shoot a little love scene
if Hollywood hadn’t caught her she’d be gunnin for ya holler come on

pretty little lady with the pretty pink thong
every sugar daddy hittin on her all night long.
doesn’t care about the money she could be with anybody
anybody and the honey wanted you all along

(you naughty thing)
your ripping up the dance floor honey
(you naughty women)
you shake your ass around for everyone
(your such a mover)
i love the way you dance with anybody
(the way you swing)
and tease them all by sucking on your thumb
your so much cooler when you never pull it out
cuz you look so much cuter with something in your mouth

crafty little lip tricks
tattoos on her left hip
she bending as your spending
there’s no ending its so …. come on
dressed up like a princess
beating that her skin smells better
than the scent of every flower in the desert come on

pretty little lady with the pretty pink thong
every sugar daddy hittin on her all night long.
doesn’t care about the money she could be with anybody
anybody and the honey wanted you all along

(you naughty thing)
your ripping up the dance floor honey
(you naughty women)
you shake your ass around for everyone
(your such a mover)
i love the way you dance with anybody
(the way you swing)
and tease them all by sucking on your thumb
your so much cooler when you never pull it out
cuz you look so much cuter with something in your mouth

she loves the night scene bar queen
living for the fun taking over every dance floor like shes the only one
in the spotlight all night dissing everyone
trying to look so innocent while sucking on her thumb

your so much cooler
when you never pull it out
so much cuter
with something in your mouth

(you naughty thing)
your ripping up the dance floor honey
(you naughty women)
you shake your ass around for everyone
i love the way you dance with anybody
(the way you swing)
and tease them all by sucking on your thumb

(you naughty thing)
your ripping up the dance floor honey
(you naughty women)
you shake that ass around for everyone
(your such a mover)
i love the way you dance with anybody
(the way you swing)
and tease them all by sucking on your thumb
your so much cooler when you never pull it out
cuz you look so much cuter with something in your



This is literally the worst song I have ever heard. Nickelback has managed to combine all the elements of music I hate into one tight pile of ass-vomit. This song is some kind of hot booty, country, "hard" rock song with bullshit solos all over the place. And the lyrics, holy christ. How crappy they only shocks me a little, but just look at how many lyrics this damn song has. BAHABHABHBAHABHABHABAHAB (that is the sound of crying and vomiting simultaneously)

And the song is wicked sexist. News flash women! it's time to be sexy and put something in your mouth!

Checklist:
Thong?
Thumb? (for sucking)
Feigned innocence?
Booty for swinging and/or shaking?
Syphilis?

I'm sure it's going to be a hit at high school dances all across the country.

I mean, this isn't a huge news flash. They've always sucked, but they just left behind all the Linkin Parks and High School Musicals of the world. They reached a new level of suck, so great I'm not sure there is a name for it YET.

Yes America, there is something in our mouths: Nickelback's dick and it's brushing our teeth with it.

John Hodgman & Our place in the universe

this is the balls

POETIX is a really cool blog. He is a lot smarter than I am.

song

the soil is a kind of rest
the bed is a tolerable soil
the tolerable claim is laid like mother
mother peels leeks
the sea and the claim help like mother
a bride of sad veiled
kind hands laid on tired groom
i know it's over
i know it's over
over
over
over


nothing ever really begins
so real only no speaking
alone and funny like clever
but alone tonight
so good looking and sleep comes
alone
tonight is alike to all nights
alone
triumph in a charming man
so easy make strength in gentle kind
so east of hate
over
over


love can be real or natural
not for such and you and i
mother the soil is a kind of blanket
mother the soil is a crimping beard
mother the soil fills the teeth between us
falling over my head
mother i feel it now
oh mother
soil as a kind voiced guitar
oh mother
i feel it now

poem

[some shoes] grinding against pearled mother board, and we accept that fever is revelry and higher forms of yellow, spiraling hired ghouls in [europe] where yokes have a labor force, [i] have a labor force, excluding the peril in [my legs], excluding the frivolous nature of our kissing [or making use of clothes], nobody has a better brother, or pearls, her arms hanging like big clam accounts, driven and filed, [we shoulder]

[three] if each had a number for this hunger, [not quiet] in a moment of fire and pride, we garnish the hell with fine unbelievable foolishness, am i numb in the following parade, can [i] arrange the picture of myself [as young], dancing in a sweat glaze, [shoulder] to shoulder she defines [the lumps]

[i] had a time spent duplicating the structure of furniture [and movement], legs can open cans, finger burst pimples in wide arrays of pleasure, [noticing] the moment two things become absolutely [shit], we tried torso, tried and made pleasure, this is believable, also is very ordinary, nothing is OK or genius, i purse my asshole towards and wish you would sleep and [let me champion] this kind of dance

BIG NEW FROM PINCH PINCH PRESS!!!

um...hi.

so, here's what's happening:

1. Barnaby Jones #1 is going to print THIS WEEKEND, shipping NEXT WEEK, and slithering into your hands very shortly thereafter.

2. If you haven't ordered Barnaby Jones #1, we'll have Paypal available again by the end of the weekend.

3. Barnaby Jones will just be Barnaby Jones. Amelia Earhart will revert to Barnaby Jones #2. Amelia Earhart is in the ocean somewhere.

4. Stay tuned for a blog makeover.

5. We love you. Don't hate us. Remember, make-up journals are the best journals.

With little hearts over the eyes,
The Editors

We are in a sitting place.

Gross cups of egg rolls filled.
A pigeon hits the glass.
In between us everywhere.
Long and short lengths in
my hands and around my waist.
Only then I saw a real abyss.
Five dogs make an escape.
Holland and the tenacious
ringing of church bells.
Sticking to the pews.
Knowing her cut glass breath.

Hip glasses above our pockets.
Trembling, the snake thickens.

new online journal: now accepting submissions

My good friends Bryan and Willie are starting there own online journal. You should definitely submit there. They are pretty nice guys.

From Rain Fade:

Dearest esteemed comrades in the business of poetry news dissemination,

We would like to announce Rain Fade, a new web-based journal seeking interesting writing and challenging visual art. We have a video introduction at www.rain-fade.com that details who we are and what we like. Please consider announcing this new venue to your readers.

Regards and more,

Rain Fade editors (Bryan Coffelt and Willie Ziebell)

5 minute interview....

for Ryan Manning's interview project Thunk. He has interveiewed people like Daniel Bailey, Blake Butler, Kendra Grant Malone, Robert Baumann, Sam Pink, and Tao Lin. You should check it out. Ryan Manning is a pretty cool guy.

Ryan Manning v. Maurice Burford

submit here - verse & narrative

WEST WIND REVIEW

reading Tender Buttons

GOURD (SHAPED LIKE PENIS)
=======================
A paralytic shape resembling the birth & the coin & the bind & the snap. Although people tend to pool themselves, although rivulets of gravy & starch punched in behind the trumpet, behind the piano as if all knowing is a kind of telling. Listening with the cat in the corner by the jazz & the tiny movements this is a kind of hand dance made around a circle. Space & hands to cramp around a menu. Although trends vary in states we drink yellow or brown to black. This is very near sleeping or gold.

Rhythmic house or in a balloon & with sand perched on our forceps. We gather in knowing & being clusters huddling in bright carpet. Rhythmic bells churning to help finding or appreciation of glowing lights. This now how becoming is let in although birch trees need light to gather hemp. Our fathers took flights in a path to our houses & made sandwiches & long gestures towards space.

Short volumes of horns blasts.

Best Site Ever

How To Field Dress A Unicorn

Two poems @ Tulip

You should submit there too.

Peter is a really cool guy.

Robot Melon

My story S- is up at Robot Melon now, along with a lot of other great work.

What's better than robots + melon?

True Love Will Find You In The End

Hello,

my name is Ester, i am 24 years in search of a man who understands love as trust and faith rather seeing it as a way of fun always but a matured man with scence of humor. so after reading your profile i derive spercial interest on you so contact me with this email addres (ester0y@yahoo.com) I believe we can start from here. awaiting to hear from you soon so i can send pics for more introductions.

Kisses

Ester

Room mates

clean
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13 dictionary results for: clean
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1) - Cite This Source - Share This
clean /klin/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[kleen] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation adjective, -er, -est, adverb, -er, -est, verb
–adjective
1. free from dirt; unsoiled; unstained: She bathed and put on a clean dress.
2. free from foreign or extraneous matter: clean sand.
3. free from pollution; unadulterated; pure: clean air; clean water.
4. habitually free of dirt: Cats are considered clean animals.
5. characterized by a fresh, wholesome quality: the clean smell of pine.
6. free from all writing or marking: a clean sheet of paper.
7. having few or no corrections; easily readable: The publisher demanded clean proofs from the printer.
8. free from roughness or irregularity: He made a clean cut with a razor.
9. not ornate; gracefully spare; forceful and simple; trim; streamlined: a clean literary style; the clean lines of a ship.
10. complete; unqualified: a clean break with tradition.
11. morally pure; innocent; upright; honorable: to lead a clean life.
12. showing good sportsmanship; fair: a clean fighter.
13. inoffensive in language or content; without obscenity.
14. (of a document, record, etc.) bearing no marks of discreditable or unlawful conduct; listing no offenses: a clean driver's license.
15. Slang.
a. innocent of any crime.
b. not having a criminal record.
c. carrying or containing no evidence of unlawful activity or intent, as controlled substances, unlicensed weapons, or contraband: The agents searched the car for drugs, but it was clean.
d. not using narcotics.
16. (of a nuclear weapon) producing little or no radioactive fallout.
17. not radioactive.
18. (of a document or financial instrument) free from qualifications or restrictions: a clean bill of lading.
19. free from defects or flaws: a clean diamond.
20. free from encumbrances or obstructions.
21. neatly or evenly made or proportioned; shapely; trim: a clean profile.
22. made without any unanticipated difficulty or interference: The bank robbers made a clean getaway.
23. Chiefly Biblical. having no physical or moral blemish or carrying no taboo so as to make impure according to the laws, esp. the dietary or ceremonial laws: a clean animal; clean persons.
24. dexterously performed; adroit: a clean serve in tennis.
25. (of a jump over an obstacle) made without touching the obstacle.
26. Slang. having no direct associations, business interests, etc., that could prejudice one's official acts or decisions: The new governor is clean because he's sold his construction business and doesn't owe political favors to anyone.
27. Slang. without money or funds.
28. (of wine) having a taste that is unusually refreshing and smooth.
29. Nautical. (of an anchorage, harbor, etc.) free of obstructions or hazards (opposed to foul).
30. (of the legs of a horse) free from injury or blemish, as capped hocks, splints, or scars.
31. Foreign Exchange. (of currency floats) not influenced by exchange-rate manipulation (opposed to dirty).
–adverb
32. in a clean manner; cleanly: Nobody wants to box with him because he doesn't fight clean.
33. so as to be clean: This shirt will never wash clean.
34. Informal. wholly; completely; quite: The sharp carving knife sliced clean through the roast. In a year, he had gone clean through his inheritance.
–verb (used with object)
35. to make clean: Clean those dirty shoes.
36. to remove or consume the contents of; empty; clear: She sat down to dinner ravenous and within five minutes had cleaned her plate.
37. to dry-clean.
38. to remove the entrails and other inedible parts from (poultry, fish, etc.); dress.
39. Slang. to take away or win all or almost all the money or possessions of (often fol. by out): The cards were marked and I got cleaned.
40. Metallurgy. to remove the seams from (a casting) by filing or grinding.
41. Philately. to delete intentionally the cancellation from (a postage or revenue stamp).
–verb (used without object)
42. to perform or undergo a process of cleaning: This kind of fabric cleans easily. Detergents clean better than most soaps.
43. to get rid of dirt, soil, etc. (often fol. by up): to spend the morning cleaning.
—Verb phrases
44. clean out,
a. to empty in order to straighten or clean.
b. to use up; exhaust: He had cleaned out his savings.
c. Informal. to drive out by force.
d. to empty or rid (a place) of occupants, contents, etc.: Eager customers cleaned out the store on the first day of the sale. The thief cleaned out the safe.
e. Slang. to cause to lose all or almost all one's money or possessions.
45. clean up,
a. to wash or tidy up.
b. to rid of undesirable persons or features: They cleaned up the local bars.
c. to put an end to; finish: to clean up yesterday's chores.
d. Informal. to make a large profit: They cleaned up in the stock market.
—Idioms
46. clean full, Nautical.
a. (of a sail or sails) filled with wind; rap full.
b. (of a sailing vessel) with all sails full of wind; rap full.
47. clean house, to wipe out corruption, inefficiency, etc., as in an organization: It's time for the city government to clean house.
48. clean up one's act. act (def. 27).
49. come clean, Slang. to tell the truth, esp. to admit one's guilt.

The Economy

Vodou worshipper gets probation for bringing skull into country.

The library lounge. I heard every word perhaps from diverse
miseries they turn about in this of all classes) in consequence
of the connection that that knowledge hath the quality of
passion. Would be, o ye bohemian americans, with fashionable
and sacred beatings.

In 1961. So to burn and she could be there and imagine. From
that first meeting with painter. And when I'm 43, and I will
never go away, I am all the pronouns. And nothing will ever change
that. I slip into a furious song, air in my costume. No, let's
never do that.

In New York. This is the circle and my punishment, dying nightly.
There is Whitman shitting in black hands around his sins and
urban infernal. There is work, cases being solved. Things
wearing in clear central along points toward horizon. So unchanged
like bats eating.

It's 8:54. Brooklyn and bells falling, ok bridges filled with cops
and guns. Where did the beard, or maybe the navy yard filled
with slim love? I tire of old filled love wordy crystals. The
sky is no color and the boat, on fire, is broken, is a garage.
Hands on fire to sea man.

Describing a poster of the San Diego Zoo

only in this drum of mottled punks
only sojourned western classical pianists
only dressed and trying at being
only in amplitudes
only the sticky looking
only, but the better of twin holidays

only the tired hands rubbing and rubbing
only rubbing and twisting out towards
only no one in, busting and inactive
only regarded in a small piles of salt
only harmonics in place of arms
only kindling to burning
only to have vision and exciting
only bearing passion to no place
only in a mist and often at night
only a farewell transmission
only to go someplace and hear it and know it and be and care for it, but never making gentle or snow of, for no person can be a pile of much for long less he lose that long dark hall inside his mouth, and if that is lost than all kind of powers can be lost.

Here is a list of those powers:
shotgun
youth
and fibers and
malice connecting to a more hospitable place
shoegaze
morphine
a collection of fragrants and viable powers
no one should have to say it
and in being it we recall
and it was a better spring
or can or will and often it

does change and make a lone call
but that night is not a power so it will not be on list and if you can hear me then this is working and whole world must have power again, yet yearning is greater and can make, also never forcing or pushing and folding and tricking into a whole not like the greater but like the lesser, somehow at the base of all things ticking off, someone in big colliding night says, "Texas" and means that but never says it too.

This was nearly a holy place.
This told and we being
god of boogers
god of enormous testicles
god of plastic knives
god of hybrid cars
If he learned it and could taste it, yet at a beautiful camera no one pointed and he left and was appreciated and...

Alex climbed into a steel machine where he was made into a robot or was killed.

jess & i made a chapbook. if you want a copy, email me and i'll send you the pdf

Tell your friends

alexsmalix@gmail.com

Barf Manifesto

I once barfed at a 24 hour car wash on the way (drunk) to a Sherry's in Medford, OR. I ran from the car, packed with drunk college kids and one, very sad driver. I puked all over my shoes in the blue-ish flood lights and I could see the little bits of macaroni and cheese I (apparently) wolfed down without chewing earlier. The puke had that acidic quality and I could here people yelling for me to hurry up, but I felt my head lulling back and forth like when joggers finally lose it. I got lost a little between the tall iron sides of the building. The full moon made depth perception impossible. There was jostling and yelling and now we were in Sherry's and I was trying to ask for water and I was spilling it on myself and then I was in the bathroom and some guy was whistling and peeing and I started dry heaving into the toilet and thought I knew the tune. I remember spilling more water on myself. The waitress kept smiling and asking if I wanted pie.



Dodie Bellamy's Barf Manifesto is one of the best essays I've ever read. It only takes about half an hour to read, and I'm slow. If she asked me to barf for her, I would. No questions asked. Her break in the traditional essay structure allows for something many essays don't, pleasure. The language is beautiful and entertaining without giving up analysis or content. BARF BARF BARF. She draws a line in the sand for readers. She allows in the personal. She totally barfs all over the notion of "objectivity," which, although it may seem out-dated or trite in this "post-modern" world we live in, it is still very much entrenched in academia. BARF. She contextualized the poetry of Eileen Myles (whom I've never really liked) in a way that resonated in me and led me to actually the poem "Everyday Barf." So basically, she's awesome and crazy smart.

I'm head over heals about her writing, and anyone who hasn't taken the time to read her, you definitely should.

SUBMIT HERE. I EDITED THIS LAST YEAR AND THIS YEAR NEEDS TO BE THE BEST ISSUE EVER. K. SILEM MOHAMMAD IS ADVISING!

From {Lime Tree}

West Wind Review, Southern Oregon University's annual literary journal, is seeking submissions of poetry, fiction, and cross-genre writing until December 1st.

I am serving this year for the first time in an official capacity as a faculty advisor for the journal, and I'm excited about the direction it's going. The past two years' editors, Jess Rowan and Maurice "Alex" Burford, have set a precedent for the inclusion of interesting, innovative writing, and I'm confident that that trend will continue this year with new editor Lacey Hunter.

Include a maximum of five short (1-3 pp.) pieces or two longer (4+ pp.) pieces. Make sure that pages are numbered and that your name appears in the header of each page. Work may be submitted as attachments in Microsoft Word to westwind@sou.edu, or send by snail mail to:

West Wind Review
Southern Oregon University
1250 Siskiyou Boulevard
Ashland, Oregon 97520

If you use regular mail, be sure to include either a SASE or an email address at which you may be contacted for a response.

Arsonism Issue #1 or Poets Say The Darndest Things

If nothing else all the controversy around Arsonism Issue #1 has shown the ugly side of poets. Reading the comments from Harriet Blog, Forgodot.com, and this article by Ron Silliman (Thanks, Bryan), "I might note that the last time I felt ripped off by an on-line stunt, I sued..." brought to light a lot of the asshole-y-ness surrounding poets. Look, being ripped off is one thing, but this is kind of like having your bush toilet papered on Halloween.

Alright, it sucks, but you don't prosecute, you don't hunt down those vandals, sneak into their room at night, and then stab them to death. You laugh it off and maybe next Halloween you spray them with a hose or scare the shit out of them. You don't file a lawsuit. These kinds of lawsuits are one of the many reasons our justice system seems like a farce. It reminded me of living in southern California, and I don't think the poetry community should remind me of that.

And for those people (like Mike Young and Kendra Grant Malone) who didn't lose their cool and made a joke of it, Thank You. I'm glad sane people still exist.

I'm just pissed I wasn't on the list.

Update: K. Silem Mohammad posted about the Issue #1 and it's the best article I've read yet. And it also made me kind of feel like a dick. Was it supposed to? Way to trump me...

After the debate

Youth Filling Pools



or the shifting crossed over brand name jeans

marked whooping cranes plying up Harvard

stop machining being of numerous states



so Watson is fire letting out breath



is the marked universals of tire nails

shoveling open and broken upwards



-------------------------------------------



know the square is every type like a diamond

and in the scrambling perished desperate

water breath holds and tight

gathering glass



-------------------------------------------





i held this melting in breathing and was calmed 

esther pearl watson

I guess her father built UFOs in her garage when she was a kid.

E.P.W.

Interview

I was interviewed by NOO Journal as part of their new, interview everyone we have ever published thing. Read it HERE.